


Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

by namohysip



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adoption, Amnesia, Conspiracy, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Heroes & Heroines, Mentors, Moral Dilemmas, PMD, POV Pokemon, POV Third Person, Secret Identity, Secrets, Talking Pokemon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2018-12-31 18:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 61
Words: 288,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namohysip/pseuds/namohysip
Summary: It started with getting stabbed. Later, mugged. And even later, pulled into a conspiracy he wanted no part of. A self-proclaimed "late-evolving" Charmander must rely on friends new and old to survive against a band of Pokémon called Hunters, or have his new, Grass-Type form turn to ash. An original PMD setting.





	1. Act 1 - A Fragile Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue.
> 
> A Charmander wakes up after a very strange encounter and prepares for an expedition as part of his training. While he's excited, his parents fret over the same thing.

Poison-tipped fangs plunged into Owen’s chest. The Charmander cried out through his pierced lungs and pushed against the rocky serpent wrapped around him. He didn’t know _what_ it was. It had the face and colors of a Tyranitar, with its rocky edges and black gaps in its armor. Yet it had the winding, coiling body of a Seviper, a poisoned blade at the end of its tail, and long, sharp fangs stuck deep within him. He grunted again and tasted blood; he couldn’t breathe. His lungs were full.

 “OWEN!” cried a Gardevoir.

“M-Mom!” Owen mouthed.

Behind the Gardevoir was a Magmortar. With fire in his eyes, he launched a volley from his cannons that exploded right next to the amalgamation. It hissed in pain; the Flame Burst sent him flying. The bursts lit up the surrounding field of lush grass, cutting through the evening twilight’s darkness. Only the fading fire of Owen’s flame and the Magmortar’s shoulders lit the area otherwise—making them easy targets.

The impact on the ground gave Owen just enough time to escape, wriggling out of its rocky hold. He felt free for only half a second. Owen turned his head and saw the thing launch a succession of large rocks toward his father, the Magmortar. Three hits. They went straight through him. Blue fire erupted from the resulting holes. And then, his father exploded in a flurry of embers.

 _D-dad_? Owen stared with wide eyes, distracted.

The serpent hissed and swung its tail forward—a sharp pain surged through Owen’s back. A jerking motion forced Owen’s head down. He saw the blade coming out from his chest. He had no way to scream.

“Get AWAY!” she screamed for him. An incredible heat washed over Owen’s back, and then a horrible, shrieking wail filled his ears. He fell; the tail slipped out from behind. Blood gushed on the dirt beneath him.

A nap sounded nice about now.

“Owen! Owen…!” His mother rushed toward him. “Owen, it’s going to be okay!” She held his back, pushing wave after wave of healing energy through his body. His breath returned to him; he coughed the remaining blood out.

What happened to his Dad? Owen’s eyes darted in all directions, his expression asking what his mouth couldn’t.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she said, placing her hand firmly on his back. The pain was unbearable. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Calm down. Sleep…”

Owen’s eyes fluttered. He felt a different energy course through him, now. It wasn’t healing him. It felt awful. Energy drained from his core. His vision faded. And then, darkness.

 

The dim glow of nighttime mushrooms colored the rocky walls of the cave. Mixing with this light were flickering embers of orange and yellow. Owen was lying in the middle of these flames, enjoying the warmth; they licked at his scales and washed over his back. The flame at the end of his tail got hotter, brimming with energy. He rolled over to sear his belly next.

Wait. What happened? Wasn’t he—

“No resting on the fire, Owen.”

“Wh—huh? I wasn’t!” He rolled away and quickly hid beneath his bed of leaves. Some of them turned black from the fire, but they didn’t burn. “Ngh,” He held his chest. It felt horribly bruised. And his back was killing him. No wonder he was sleeping on the fire! But why did he feel that way? He remembered a fight. A fight that he’d lost. Badly. But was that just a dream? He remembered a rocky serpent. And fire, and explosions. It was all so garbled—he wasn’t sure what was real.

Amia peeked into the room, her white dress aglow from the mushrooms and the fire. She sighed. “You’re lucky we got you that special Rawst Leaf bed, or we’d need to replace it every night!” She laughed, but then walked over, patting him on the head. “Go to sleep, dear. Tomorrow’s a big day for you, isn’t it? Another expedition as a trainee. You don’t want to do that while sleep-deprived, do you?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s very late, Owen. Get some rest.”

“Okay, Mom.”

 

Breakfast was a hearty stew. The table had three seats. Two were sized for the smaller frames of the mother and son. Both were approximately the same width, albeit oversized for Owen. The third seat was much larger than the rest—in order to accommodate for its usual occupant. He was a creature with a flaming body, and a bulky one at that. His most prominent features, however, were his arms, which were shaped like natural cannons. He was bumping these cannon-arms together with anxiety.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked.

“N-nothing,” Alex said. He refused to make eye contact.

Owen squinted suspiciously. He glanced at his mother, who giggled nervously and looked at her half-eaten bowl.

“Mmm. How are you feeling, Owen?” she asked.

“Perfect! But, uh, I don’t know. Did you ever have that feeling where you had a really good dream, but then you can’t… remember it?”

Owen noticed the subtle, shocked expressions in his parents’ eyes, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“I had one of those. But I can’t remember any of it. I think I was having a really big fight. I remember my heart racing!” Owen played with a lump of a potato in the stew. His parents always got uncomfortable when he talked about his dreams, and he never knew why. He _did_ admit that they felt too real to be dreams, but what else could they be? He had decided long ago not to press the issue. He grabbed his bowl and downed half of his breakfast. His parents’ expressions were grave, but they feigned a smile when he looked at them again. “Weird, huh? Dreams are funny.”

“Oh, Owen, m-maybe you’re just nervous about all this,” his mother said. “Becoming stronger, more responsibilities. Being part of the Association is a big deal, after all!”

“Y-yes, exactly,” his father said. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to… live quietly? Perhaps take on a farming job.”

“No way!” Owen said, beaming. “Fighting is the way to go. I can’t live without a good fight. And what better way to fight than to, uh, y’know, fight bad guys?”

“Of… of course.” At this point, his father was defeated. Owen’s mother put her hand on Alex’s back, shaking her head.

Owen returned to his meal.

Alex’s shoulder-flames flared with his heartbeat. “So… today’s the day, right?” he asked, breaking the tense silence.

“Oh, Alex, you weren’t up all night, were you?” Amia asked.

Owen wouldn’t doubt if Alex spent all night fretting over his planned excursion.

“No! I shut my eyes,” he said. “…Owen, are you sure about this?”

“Super totally!” Owen said, tipping his bowl of stew directly into his mouth.

Alex gulped. “Amia, don’t you think it’s a little early?”

“Oh, Alex, we can’t baby him forever. He’s an adult!” she said. “It’s just one exploration. Into a known area. In a Dungeon, sure, but nothing he can’t handle! He’ll be just fine.” She fidgeted with her hands. It was a telltale sign she was trying to convince herself it would be okay. Owen chose not to acknowledge this, either.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “And if I get horribly maimed, I’ll just warp back to the entrance! It’ll be fine!” He grinned, but he wondered if his word choice could have been better. He was trying to be funny, but he practically heard his father’s heart skip three beats.

“B-but it will still be dangerous! You’ll be badly hurt, Owen! And what of the Pokémon just outside the Dungeon, waiting for weakened Pokémon to attack?!” Alex protested. “And what if you bring something important with you? If you get kicked out of a Dungeon in that way, you’ll—lose it! You’ll lose almost everything on you! Perhaps even your—your life!”

“Well, if wild Pokémon think it’s safe,” Owen said, “then it must be really nice, y’know?”

“B-but…! That’s…!” Alex’s arms heated up. He looked like he was going to collapse into himself with worry. “Wh-which Dungeon is it again?”

“It’s only the Wooden Wilds, dear,” Amia said. “It isn’t even very far. And it’s mostly just Bug and Grass Pokémon—you have nothing to worry about! He won’t _strain_ himself.” She nodded at both of them.

Alex gulped, but nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Then… then, you can go, Owen. But—be careful! Very, very careful. And if you ever run into trouble, we’ll tell the Association about it right away.”

“I’ll be _fine_ , Dad,” Owen said. How humiliating would it be for his parents to ask the Association to rescue him? “Okay! I’m gonna go now, alright? See you!”

“W-wait!” Alex said. “Did you meditate?!”

“Did this morning!”

Owen hopped out of his seat. He grabbed a small, lightweight, golden Badge on top of a rock near the table, and then grabbed his little inventory bag from the front. “See you!” he said. He glanced at the heart-like insignia on his Badge, nodding to himself.

They watched Owen leave. Amia leaned into Alex’s chest, sighing.

Alex gulped. “I hope he isn’t self-conscious of his size,” he said. “It might affect how strong he is, even if he’s stronger than the average Charmander, you know, given the…”

Amia giggled. “He’s got a strong will, though,” she said, “and he’s resourceful, too. He’ll make up for it. And who knows? Maybe this adventure is what he needs to control that spirit of his.” She sighed. She stared at the empty bowl Owen left behind. “I wish Rhys was still here. Maybe we wouldn’t have had to….”

Alex hummed worriedly. “That was a close call, yesterday,” he said. “I’ve never seen one of those mutants so powerful before. What if he runs into another of those—those _things_ in the Dungeon?”

Amia bit her lip. “I know, dear,” she said. “But that Dungeon is safer than most. If he runs into any trouble, well, it’ll be better there than anywhere else. You know it’s me they’re after, not him.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Alex said. He rubbed his cannons together. “If I was just a little stronger, I could have defended us both. But I just… _evaporated_ after the first strike.”

“It’s not your fault, dear,” the blue Gardevoir said, gently holding his shoulder. “It’s my fault, too. I should have been more careful when leaving the caves. If we just stayed put, we wouldn’t have had to put Owen through all that again.”

Alex pat Amia on the back. “Let’s clean up the table,” he said. “And—and if he isn’t back by the evening…”

“We’ll call the Association. I promise,” Amia said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Hey, everyone!
> 
> This is a work that's uploaded in parallel to Wattpad and FFN for exposure, as well as the serebii and bulbapedia forums, so don't be alarmed if you see this fic there under the same username as this one.
> 
> Comments and criticisms are loved and encouraged, and most importantly, have fun reading what I have for you! And don't be afraid to leave reviews on chapters long since published! It's fun to get reader reactions to any point of the story, early or current. I generally reply to all comments, so you won't be ignored!
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoy!


	2. Kilo Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen goes to Kilo Village to prepare for his expedition. He runs into familiar, yet unfamiliar, faces, and heads into the Dungeon, expecting an easy exploration.

The sky was a blinding blue that morning, without a cloud in sight. With the help of Owen’s Provisionary Association Badge, the fiery reptile appeared in the middle of town in a flash of light.

“That was so cool!” Owen said. It wasn’t his first time, but the wonder of being able to teleport from anywhere to the Central Waypoint hadn’t yet worn off. Just as this wasn’t going to be his first exploration, but it’d be the first one in a slightly harder Dungeon.

Owen looked around to gather his bearings. Immediately in the center of town was a sign that said, ‘Welcome to Kilo Village!’ It was odd to have a welcome sign in the exact middle of the location, but it made sense when most individuals entered through that Waypoint. The town itself was in the middle of a crater at the top of an extinct volcano. From inside town, one couldn’t see anything beyond the dark hills of the crater. The altitude, however, wasn’t very high; the mountain was mostly underwater, rather than above the sea—according to the Water Pokémon, at least. Owen didn’t intend to test such theories out.

The buildings that surrounded him were no more than two stories tall. Oblong rocks bound by mortar shaped the buildings near the center of town—the oldest buildings of the crater. These black stones were home to nobody. Instead, it served as a hospital for rescued and injured Pokémon. Owen spotted a Chansey through windows of wood and glass, holding a few soft-boiled eggs in her tiny arms. A Miltank was carrying a large jug of milk in the opposite direction.

Owen decided not to think too hard about it.

All around Owen was everything that an Association member would need. The northern side of the crater was dedicated to Dungeon items and equipment. These buildings were made from the same material, but were more recently renovated, lined with displays of seeds and berries, wands and orbs, tonics and vitamins.

The east was dedicated to eateries and restaurants for Pokémon that were either preparing for a mission or returning from one. Sweet and savory scents mixed in the air and the jovial energy of a job well done permeated the atmosphere. If it wasn’t for the price, Owen would have eaten there every night.

The west was for training and sparring, fighting one another, attacking dummies, and conquering obstacle courses set up by retired explorers. These buildings were often where experimental materials were used before shifting the techniques into the older buildings. After all, if it could withstand the attacks of the Pokémon that trained there, it could easily handle whatever else the rest of the town had to deal with.

Owen then glanced longingly at the southern part of town. The Thousand Hearts Association. The building itself was a big, red, heart-shaped structure, with many smaller hearts scattered around: kiosks and special-purpose facilities. Inside the biggest building was where all Association members met for check-ins, assignments, and training. Why a heart? Owen had no idea, though it might have something to do with their leader’s… personality.

All of the sights and the bright sky lifted his spirits. He couldn’t ignore how nervous his parents were, and that dampened them slightly—but he figured that if he kept acting cheerful, maybe he’d be able to fool himself into truly feeling confident, too. That feeling always nagged at him. The idea that something wasn’t right with anything he did. Not that he did it _incorrectly_ , but that something, in general, felt _wrong_. Even now, it tugged at his mind. Like he’d done this all before.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice a passerby Zangoose.

“Kid,” he said, “you oughta get off the Waypoint.”

“S-sorry!” Owen scrambled away. “Okay. Okay, time to go. I need, uhh, what’s my inventory look like?” He rummaged through. “A-and I’m not a kid!” he shouted. “I’m just a late evolver!”

He had two Oran Berries, two elixirs, two apples, a Pecha Berry, a Heal Seed, a Totter Orb, and—just in case—an Escape Orb. That should be enough, hopefully. No need to go to the shop to get anything. He’d want at least one Reviver Seed, but he didn’t have the funds for that sort of thing. Oh! But what if they had a rare berry or two? Sure, he preferred having his bag half-empty in order to make room for food in the Dungeon, but a _few_ extra berries wouldn’t hurt. If he just shuffled the Oran Berries around, perhaps carried the Totter Orb instead?

“Kid. You’re in the way.”

“S-sorry!” He stumbled. “Wait—I’m not a kid! I told you, I’m a late evolver! I’ll have you know, I—uh—I, er…” He finally realized who he was talking to. Not the Zangoose this time. It was a Golem, a behemoth of a rocky sphere, staring down at him from his great height. Defiantly, Owen puffed out his chest. He was a full-grown adult! Or at least an adult! Lots of weaker Pokémon never evolved. He just happened to be strong _and_ slow at evolution.

The Golem sighed and wobbled away.

 

“Kid… not a kid… I’m just a little late, is all. I bet I’m _way_ stronger than even the average Charmeleon! Stronger than that Golem, too, if he didn’t have an advantage.” Owen mumbled, clutching his bag. “I didn’t train with Dad for nothing.” He hesitated on that line of thinking. What if he didn’t evolve yet because he never got to train with a Charizard before? Could that happen? Is that how evolution worked? Owen shook his head. No, many Pokémon were raised without the same species around, and they evolved just fine. Adopted Pokémon weren’t at some—some disadvantage, were they? No, he was just fine! “Yeah, I’m just—”

He bumped right into another patron. “Sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Ahh, it is not a problem,” he replied. Owen saw an Alakazam whose mustache was large enough for Owen to walk on like a carpet. Owen’s gut twisted with a feeling he couldn’t comprehend. But then, he shoved that feeling away, and instead tried to take in exactly who he was talking to.

“Y-you’re—you’re—!” Owen’s eyes sparkled. “Alakazam Nevren! Oh—oh, wow!”

“Ahh, you’ve spotted me,” Nevren chuckled. He put his two spoons in his left hand and shook Owen’s with his right. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said.

Owen tilted his head, confused. Hadn’t they met before? Oh? No, they didn’t. Odd.

Nevren continued. “Ahh, I see you have a Provisionary Association Badge. Training to become one of the Thousand, are you? There are sixteen open slots coming up soon, you know.”

“Sixteen?” Owen asked. “Wow! How come? Are… are some Pokémon not doing well?”

“Ahh, no, no, it’s nothing like that,” Nevren said. “It’s simply retirement. There will be a ceremony about that soon, you know. Perhaps you should attend and network with the others.”

“But you’re an Elite Heart,” Owen said. “Do you think I’ll be able to, um, get to that level?”

“Well, surely with time, you can,” Nevren said. “Everybody begins at the Entry tier, of course. But, looking at you….”

Owen felt a cold pit in his stomach at that analytical gaze. Was he being judged, right there, by one of the most Elite Hearts in the whole world?

Nevren nodded. “I see potential. Quite a bit!”

“Y’do?!” Owen said. “Wow! Okay! Then I’ll definitely do better!”

Nevren nodded. “In fact,” he said, “why don’t I give you a small gift?”

“What? A gift—from you?! Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please! I’ll treasure it!” Owen had no idea why Nevren would want to give him a gift so randomly. But he wasn’t going to question a free item!

Nevren chuckled. “Of course!” he said. “Here, have this.” He handed Owen a small stone. It sparkled in the sun, but was mostly gray, like a shiny rock.

“Cool!” Owen said politely. “What, uh, what’s it do?”

“It is a special stone that boosts the defensive power of Pokémon that have not yet fully evolved. It’s called an Eviolite—and it will be useful as long as it is near your body. I, of course, have no use for it, but you certainly do.”

“Oh! That means, so, when I get super strong, that’s when I won’t even need it,” Owen said. It was a constant reminder that he was a larva when he shouldn’t have been. But, at least now he had a boost. “That’s the perfect item! Thank you!” Psychologically it was undoubtedly going to feed into some complex, Owen thought, but in terms of practicality? Priceless.

Nevren chuckled. “Be sure to keep it with you!” He walked past Owen and left, and the Charmander was left puffing a little plume of confused smoke at the Alakazam. Keep it with him? Of course he would!

Completely forgetting about going to the shop, he headed south again to the Heart. There, along the pathway, were many lines of warp tiles, each one with a label engraved on it. They were Waypoints set up by explorers of the past in different regions across the continent, meant for getting there instantly, rather than on foot or by wing. With the tiles sorted by a strange derivative of Unown runes, Owen searched for Unown-W’s symbol. “Western Crystal Cave, Western Wetlands, oh! Wooden Wilds! That’s it, alright.” Owen took a breath. “Tenth section. That’s my goal.”

Before he had the chance to enter, however, someone bumped into him.

“S-sorry! Again!” Owen said, a hint of irritability in his voice. This place was too crowded.

“Feh, quit standin’,” replied an orange, bug-looking creature with a head and jaw that took up half his body.

“Gahi, don’t be rude,” said another Pokémon. This one was green and scaly, with two huge tusks sticking out from the sides of his jaw.

There was also a third Pokémon rolling her eyes—a creature with a light green body and a giant leaf sprouting from her head.

Owen’s heart fluttered as if he’d seen old friends. Yet, he didn’t know their names.

The Axew was the first to speak. “I’m sorry about Gahi,” he said, motioning to the Trapinch. “We were actually on our way to do a little mission. Or, well, to find one.”

“Oh, really? I was going to go exploring in the Wild Woodlands.”

“Y’ mean the Wooden Wilds?” Gahi asked.

“Y-yeah, that.”

“Heh, well, g’luck,” Gahi said. “Figure yeh ain’t too experienced.”

“I am too! I’m super strong! I just… didn’t evolve yet.”

“Oh, really? Well that makes four o’ us. Mispy, Demitri, ‘n I all’re late evolvers, but we’re super tough!”

“Oh! Wait—late evolvers. Is that real?” Owen had just made up the term, but they used it, too. Owen’s tail-fire burned a bit brighter at the validation.

“’Course it is!” Gahi said, stomping his tiny foot. “Otherwise, I’d be a Flygon by now!”

“And I’d be a Haxorus,” Demitri said. “Well, maybe just a Fraxure.” He rubbed at his tusk, tending to a little nick on the right side.

“Meganium…” Mispy said, leaf drooping.

The three collectively sighed.

“I know how you feel,” Owen said. “I’ve trained hard enough to become a Charizard already. I’m sure of it! But, it just never happened. It’s so _weird_. Everybody else in my scales would’ve evolved by now, but…!”

“It’s too bad,” Demitri said. “But, what can you do? We work with what we have, as Association Entries.”

Owen’s eyes sparked. “You’re one of the Thousand?!”

“Well, three,” Demitri said. “We’re our own little team!”

“That’s so cool! How’d you get in?”

“Hard work,” Gahi said.

“And,” Demitri said, “we got a good word in from our mentor, an Association Elite.”

“What? Who? Which one?” Owen asked.

“Lucario Rhys,” Demitri said.

There was the smallest pause from Owen. He knew the answer. He _knew_ these three were his students. Trapinch Gahi, Axew Demitri, Chikorita Mispy. It was obvious to him! But why? _No, don’t look crazy. Not today,_ Owen thought. He feigned a beaming expression. “He’s so cool! He’s the aura expert, right?”

“Yeah,” Demitri said. “And he’s super tough!”

“I already met Alakazam Nevren a little while ago! Those two are friends, right?! Oh, can I meet—I mean,” he paused. “Um… I mean…”

“Heh,” Gahi said, amused. “Maybe when yeh get stronger. ‘Til then, we’re gonna do our mission.” He led the way to the main building. Demitri followed, waving back in farewell. Mispy gave Owen an apologetic smile and followed after them.

Owen watched them with a tilted head. Why did they seem so familiar? Their entire conversation felt like one giant déjà vu. Everything today did. He shook his head; if he kept thinking like this, his entire day would be ruined. He forced excitement to take over. He had an exploration to do!

 

“Peh! Pah!”

Embers filled the air. Shrieks of wild Pokémon accompanied it. With their bodies burned, they vanished in thin air, returning to the entrance to the Dungeon. “Sweet!” Owen said, pumping his fist in the air. “This is _super_ easy!” he said. He felt a little bad about hurting those Pokémon, but they were the ones attacking _him_. Injuries remained, even after a Pokémon was ejected from a Dungeon’s anomalous field—hopefully they would be okay.

Owen puffed and leaned against a nearby tree that jutted out from a soft wall. The corridors of Dungeons were always so awkwardly narrow, made from raised ground nearby—in this case, of dirt and rock. A strange gravity prevented one from climbing the walls, let alone flying over them. Owen had tried, many times, out of curiosity.

Owen’s stomach growled loudly, breaking him from his train of thought. He tittered and dug through his bag. “I guess fighting all the time can work up an appetite, huh?” he said. The crackling flames of the battle’s aftermath spoke back to him. “I need to stop talking to myself.”

Owen sat down to enjoy his meal. He grabbed a stick nearby and stuck it through the core of the apple. He wrapped his tail around and kept it in front of him, roasting the apple above the flame.

Someone growled behind him. Owen sighed. There was never any peace from the ferals of the Dungeon. They wandered aimlessly into these strange distortions of space, and with no knowledge about how they got out, or even how they got in. When a Dungeon started and ended was too subtle for their wild minds to notice. So, they wandered angrily through them, territorial over a space that constantly shifted.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Owen said warningly. “Get any closer, and it won’t end well for you!” He didn’t even turn around. He bit into the roasted apple, savoring the sweet, hot taste.

Wild Pokémon wouldn’t be able to fully understand the language Owen spoke. As a result, it just kept walking. Suddenly, the ground beneath the Pokémon’s feet lit up in a bright yellow. A column of fire engulfed it—and that was it. A quick shriek, and then it was gone from the Dungeon. Owen giggled. “My signature attack—Fire Trap!” he said to the wind.

Being at such a disadvantage, he had trained day and night to perfect a delayed Fire attack, should he ever be caught off guard when handling things one on one. He wasn’t really sure how long he had actually trained; long enough to forget when he actually learned the technique, at least. Still, it took time for him to do it. He could only use it if he had a big opening. But that wasn’t so bad. Now, if only he could figure out how to run away _and_ use the attack at the same time.

Owen finished his apple and stood up. “Top shape!” he said, pumping his fists in the air. “Can’t beat me now, Dungeon!”

The ground rumbled, as if Owen had tempted fate a bit too much. “U-uhh—” He looked back.

“Rrr… rrrn… rpphhf…”

Owen’s fire burned bright. He was ready to run at a moment’s notice. He shoved his hand into his bag, looking for an item that he’d picked up in an earlier section. He found it and looked up just in time to see the foot of a Snorlax stepping through the corridors. This Snorlax was _huge_ —even bigger than he thought was normal for the species. And its arms were a bit longer, too, with long, matted fur. Muscles bulged unnaturally. It wasn’t a normal Snorlax—and Owen wasn’t prepared for whatever it had in store.

The phantom pain in Owen’s chest and back suddenly flared up at the sight of this mutated Pokémon. He had forgotten all about it. Suddenly, Owen remembered his dream, or flashes of it. He remembered his father getting struck, and then exploding in a cloud of blue embers. And some creature—he couldn’t remember what—slicing at him. That didn’t feel like a dream. But—his father was alive! It had to be a dream.

The Snorlax, however, was anything but. A single swing from its mighty fist would turn Owen to a fine, red mist.

“Nope!” Owen said. He threw a seed toward the Snorlax and fired a puff of flames along with it. The seed ignited, sending soot and smoke in all directions, both blinding and suffocating the mutant. It roared and rubbed its eyes, stumbling blindly into a wall. Owen, knowing he was outmatched, fled for the next section. He only stopped running once he was sure he was far away. He held onto his tiny knees.

He caught his breath and stood straight. “That was weird,” Owen mumbled. “Never saw a Snorlax like that before.” He shook his head. Nothing he could do about it now. It was just something to report when he got back to Kilo Village. The Charmander gently held his chest; the phantom pain was fading.

 _I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy_. _That was real, and I’m not seeing things. Not crazy._

And so, he advanced. Each section was separated by a small distortion, like a vertical pool of water, but Owen had an easier time checking each time his Badge blinked. The blink indicated a transition into a new part of the Dungeon. Section seven, section eight, section nine… section ten. “Okay, this must be it,” he said. “Finally.” Between his apparent struggle to differentiate dream from reality, and then the Snorlax sighting, his enthusiasm for the exploration was being sustained only by his own feigned excitement.

He did his research. There was a Waypoint at the end of the tenth section, where the Dungeon’s perimeter ended. What great timing, too—Owen was beat! He didn’t want to admit it to the Dungeon, but the tenth section was his limit. He looked up at the sky. The sun’s rays weren’t shining through the tall trees anymore—not directly, at least. It looked like it was going to turn orange soon. If he didn’t get home by evening, Alex’s cannons were probably going to explode with worry again.

“Hey. Kid.”

Owen bristled. “I’m NOT a ki—id…!” He turned around. On the other side of the Dungeon hall, a few paces behind him, was a creature with gray scales, huge jaws, and large wings. His eyes… Owen didn’t like those eyes. Trained, focused. Malevolent. What did this one have in mind? He saw that look often in town—outlaws that were captured, still bitter with defeat. But this one wasn’t defeated.

Of all the people that he’d met today, this outlaw was the first one that he had no inkling of familiarity with. He had to be careful what he wished for; meeting this Aerodactyl gave him the worst pit in his stomach yet. Maybe it was the apple.

“What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” the Aerodactyl asked. “Looking for an advantage? Nothing but Grass and Bugs here, after all. Fire Type like you? Easy win.”

“Y-yeah. Really easy, ha ha….”

“I have an easy time here, too,” Aerodactyl replied. “Rock is strong against Bugs. And Flying? Beats ‘em both. But you know what’s _really_ great about me?” he said.

“Y-yeah? What?”

“Rock beats Fire. Rock _also_ beats Flying. And guess what explorer-types show up the most here?”

“F… Fire and… Flying?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

“I—I know Alakazam Nevren,” Owen said. “You should be careful how you act in front of me!”

“Oh, is he around?” Aerodactyl asked. Owen flinched. His hesitation said it all; the winged Pokémon’s jaw twisted into a horrible grin. “Guess that won’t matter, then, will it?”

“Uhh…! Uhh, then I’ll just beat you!” he said. He stomped on the ground and leaned forward, feigning an attack stance.

“Oh, really?” Aerodactyl asked, amused. “That’s a laugh. Okay, kid. But I’ll give you one last chance. Gimme your bag, and I’ll let ya go. Otherwise, I’ll—”

All that was left behind were a few stray embers from his tail; Owen bolted.


	3. Trouble in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen fights with an outlaw in an effort to escape with all of his things. However, the outlaw proves to be a much more formidable foe than expected...

“Stupid kid—get back—pfwaaagh!”

A Fire Trap exploded beneath Aerodactyl when he reached where Owen had stomped. Unfortunately, all it did was slow him down. “Nghh—that burns,” he muttered, rubbing at his right side with his wing.

Owen ran as quickly as he could, glad that the outlaw was stunned by the surprise attack. Hoping it would work again, he spent some of his time stomping on the ground. This created another trap. Owen turned down the corridor, but then skidded to a stop. “W-wait! That’s not fair!” he shouted.

“You shouldn’t be the one to complain about being _fair_!” Aerodactyl shouted, pushing through the second Fire Trap.

Owen stared at the path—or, rather, the lack of a path—ahead of him. He had run into a dead end. There was no way out but to backtrack, and that was where Aerodactyl was rapidly closing in.

 “Heh, well, I suppose our fairness evens out, doesn’t it?” Aerodactyl said. He stopped advancing if only to taunt, but it was clear that he was looking for a good way to strike without dealing with more of Owen’s tricks.

“That’s not right! I—just—let me go!” Owen said.

“Oh, no, no, no, I don’t think I can do that,” Aerodactyl said. “Not without some _payment_ first. Your bag. Just hand it over, and I’ll be on my way.”

“No way!” Owen said. He glanced in his bag with the little time he had. He had too my precious items in it. The gift from Nevren, too. And all the items he picked up during exploration! Wait, the items!

“Ha!” Owen said. He saw the small, blue sphere—an Escape Orb. He could use it. He’d be out of here without a problem! Owen quickly grabbed it and smashed it on the ground. He was ready for the blue light inside to envelop him and take him straight to the entrance. Instead, the light and energy inside evaporated into nothing.

“Wh-what?” he said. A mysterious power had stopped the Orb from functioning. That normally only happened against Pokémon with powerful auras, or—

“Heh,” Aerodactyl said. He dug his right wing into his own bag, flashing a strange-looking device. It was red with a glowing, yellow heart button in the middle. “Jammer Emblem. You think I’d let you run off so easily? Everyone brings Escape Orbs. So, I bring a Jammer.”

“Th-those are illegal! You can’t use those without Association permission!” But Owen realized shortly after that this was an outlaw. What was one broken rule if they already cast the law aside?

Aerodactyl took another step forward. Owen only had enough time to use one more item. And his Totter Orb would be useless, too. What else did he have? Wait!

Owen immediately shoved a seed in his mouth and chomped. In one second, he was staring an Aerodactyl in the face. In another, he was in the middle of a random room on the same section of the Dungeon. Owen, working off of the adrenaline rush, immediately ran ahead. If he could just find the exit—Bad!

He was in the exact same room he had been in before. He even saw the Aerodactyl emerge from the hall next to him. Owen fought against his own momentum and scrambled backwards.

He rushed through the Dungeon as much as he could, but fortune was not Owen’s friend that day. He couldn’t find the way out. Why did this always happen when a quick escape was needed the most?! He had explored the entire segment by now, and still—

He found a room he hadn’t yet visited. He peered inside and saw the Aerodactyl—and the exit, right behind him.

Aerodactyl caught sight of Owen at the corner of his eye. His huge jaw twisted into a smirk. “Hey, there,” he said. “Having trouble?”

Owen wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there. It was just the two of them. The exit out of his reach. But now, he knew that he had a solid target. That Aerodactyl wasn’t going to move from that spot. So, if he could take advantage of that somehow, then maybe—

“Hey!” Owen said. “How about this?!” He grabbed something from his bag and threw it at the outlaw. It was another seed—one that, upon hitting him, popped and scattered a strange dust around the Pokémon.

“Wh—huh?! Why you—little—!” He was bumbling where he stood, wobbling horribly. His jaws opened wide and he fired—unexpectantly—a set of rocky pellets toward Owen. Rock Blast—Owen was _sure_ his species wasn’t capable of such a technique normally.

He launched pellet after rocky pellet in a random direction, completely missing Owen. Now was his chance! Owen opened his mouth and launched a small plume of fire toward him. An Ember was less than ideal, but it at least did _some_ damage. All of his other attacks either required contact or required Aerodactyl to move to where he had been standing. Ember was all he had. He’d _love_ to swipe at the Aerodactyl with hardened, metal-like claws, but with the way he was flailing, one false move would kick him right out of the Dungeon. Then he’d lose his items _and_ he’d have a horrible bruise to show for it, at _best_.

“Ngh—!” Owen narrowly dodged to the right, evading a lucky shot, but his momentum made him tumble to the ground. He scrambled up—and felt a sharp pain on back of his head. Everything felt upside-down, and there was a sharp ringing in his ears. “Ughn—no, I…!” he tried to stand, but a second rock smashed against the center of his spine. The force made him roll across the ground like a bag of berries—he couldn’t feel anything on his lower half.

Aerodactyl tried to fire a third, but nothing came. “Tch,” he said. “Just two that time, huh? Must be getting tired.” He winced at his burn. Then, he stepped toward Owen, who was too injured and dizzy to react, yet not enough to be kicked from the Dungeon.

“You gave me some real trouble, Charmander,” Aerodactyl said. He pulled Owen’s inventory bag away and dug through it, grabbing one of his Heal Seeds. With a chomp, his burn vanished. “Heh. Well, I’ll just take this bag as payment,” he said.

“N… no,” Owen said. “You can’t!”

“Looks like I can,” he replied, munching on an Oran Berry next. His injuries vanished with a wave of blessed light. He let out a deep, refreshed sigh.

“P-please. At least give me the Eviolite that Nevren gave me,” Owen said, holding himself up with an arm. “You don’t… you don’t need it. You’re fully evolved.”

“Eh?” Aerodactyl looked at the glimmering stone. “Doesn’t look like a normal Eviolite to me. I bet it’d sell real well, though. Sorry, kid. I’m keeping it. Also, my species doesn’t need evolution, so you know.”

Owen tried to blast him again, but no flames came out; he could taste the fire on his tongue, but he didn’t have the strength to push it further. He exhaled, but the flame was gone. The best he could hope for was that Aerodactyl would be merciful and leave him alone. Maybe he should have listened to his father. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. He couldn’t even send a distress signal. His bag was taken, and therefore his Badge. Was this it?

Aerodactyl stared at Owen, and Owen wondered if he could smell the fear radiating off of him.

“Kid,” he said, “I don’t work like that. All I want is the items. What happens after, I don’t care. That’s the way the world works. And the way Dungeons work.” He took another step closer. “Here, let me help. I’ll beat you up nice and good, and you can crawl back to your base to recoup. You ready?”

Owen stared up at the outlaw. They locked eyes. His wing was raised. Owen didn’t know if he’d be able to survive the blow. If he’d wake up at all at the entrance, or if he’d just be there, motionless, for the ferals to eat.

“Please,” Owen said.

The wing hung there, tense. But then the claws at the end clenched in what may have been a fist. “There’s nothing more that I hate than you Hearts,” he said. “Thanks for the loot.”

He lowered his wing and spun around, walking toward the Dungeon’s exit. Owen’s throat clenched, as if trying to seal what little pride he had left inside his body.

“No way!” someone shouted.

Owen’s heart fluttered. He recognized that voice from earlier in the day. He turned his head weakly and saw an orange blur rush past him. A speedy Trapinch, a walking contradiction, and a welcome surprise. He weaved left and right, went in front of Aerodactyl, and then hit him directly.

Aerodactyl shouted and stumbled back. “You—oh, great. Association members?!” His wings clutched the bag to his chest. “But it’s just a bunch of runts. Is that your best?”

Demitri and Mispy were puffing at the other end of the hall, trying their hardest to catch up to their third member.

“Far from our best!” the Axew said, huffing. His tiny hands were barely able to grasp his scaly knees. “We’re Team—uh, what was our team name, again?—uh—Alloy! Of the Thousand Hearts Society!”

“Association,” the Chikorita mumbled, using two of her vines to act as a fifth and sixth leg, since her normal four weren’t enough to stay standing.

“Y-yeah! Association,” Demitri said. “And we’ve got to be top-tier to get into something like that!”

“You seem new. Worst of the best, I take it?” Aerodactyl asked, smirking.

“Goodra Anam said that a ranked system isn’t good for morale, so we aren’t the worst or the best! We’re just Entry-Level Hearts!”

“Guys!” Owen shouted hoarsely.

All this time that they were talking, Owen saw the outlaw making sly, subtle movements with the bag. “He’s trying something!” He might have disabled his jammer. And that could only mean he would use an Orb next.

“Hmph, think you’re clever?” he replied. He pulled out the Totter Orb and threw it on the ground. Owen felt the confusion wash over him instantly, on top of the dizziness that he was only starting to recover from. He gave up and collapsed on the ground, trying to stop his head from spinning. He knew that the best thing to do while confused was to wait for it to pass. “He’s getting away,” he mumbled.

“I got ‘em!” Gahi said, rushing Demitri with a dark aura characteristic of his Feint Attack.

“G-Gahi! What’s your problem?!” Demitri said. “He’s right that way!” Demitri sliced at the air in front of him, leaving a small, blue trail of dragon fire with both swipes. It completely missed.

“Stop,” Mispy mumbled, shutting her eyes.

“I’ll get ‘em!” Gahi said, striking out again with a dark tackle. He hit the wall.

The outlaw was mere steps away from the exit. But then, Gahi got a lucky shot on his next run. He snapped out of his confusion, spotted the Aerodactyl, and ran. The orange blur was in front of the outlaw in the blink of an eye, blocking his way out.

“How’d you—outta the way, insect!” He opened his mouth and fired a volley of three rocks. Gahi dodged them all and countered with a solid strike with his massive head, square in the chest. This one left a bruise; the outlaw stumbled back, dropping the bag. In the amount of time he took to reach for it, Gahi took it and dropped it by Owen.

 _Good_ , Owen thought. The outlaw would give up and run away, and he’d be safe. Then he could head home and take a nice, long nap.

Instead, the outlaw roared and ran toward Owen.

Weakened and immobile, he shut his eyes tight, waiting for the inevitable impact that would kick him out of the Dungeon. And then he prayed to Arceus that he’d be able to wake up after it. But it never came. He heard an impact, but he wasn’t the one to receive it. He opened one eye.

Demitri, was standing in the way; he took the whole hit with one of his tusks. Miraculously, it didn’t break, but it looked like it hurt. The follow-up wasn’t any nicer—a strong jab to the side of his body with a Wing Attack—but he stood anyway.

“Give it here, you—” Aerodactyl grabbed the bag. Owen didn’t have the strength nor reflexes to hang on. The outlaw turned around, sprinting for an escape.

“Mispy! Now!” Demitri shouted.

Owen had to shut his eyes again. He saw a blinding beam of light, and it was simply too much. He heard the Aerodactyl scream in fright, and then he heard the dull noises of punches and kicks and swipes. And then, panting. Gahi laughing. Demitri telling him to quiet down.

Owen jumped when he felt something brush against his back.

“Eep—! O-oh, it’s you,” Owen said, spotting Mispy, clearly the healer of the team. Her vines gently rubbed at his spine.

“Shh,” Mispy said. Her leaf glowed and released a soft light that clouded around Owen. All of the energy he had lost returned to him. He could feel his lower half again, too.

 _Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay. Calm down. Sleep…_ Amia’s words echoed in Owen’s mind.

_That wasn’t a dream._

Despite the healing, the phantom pain of that memory returned to him in an instant, and flashes of that past event clouded his vision. His muscles seized slightly, and his claws dug into the dirt, leaving tiny holes where his claws touched. Embers spilled from the sides of his mouth, and his eyes widened.

One of Mispy’s vines slapped Owen on the forehead. “Stop that,” Mispy said.

“B-buh—h-huh—” Owen snapped back to reality. “Wh-what happened?”

“You’re fine,” Mispy said. “Shut up.” She pressed her vines against his back again and focused. Healing energy continued to flow into him, and Owen, after a few seconds of tension, managed to breathe easy. He shut his eyes, thinking happier thoughts, like when he had cut his arm on a rock when he fell, and how his mother used the very same technique to patch him up. Easy, easy…. Finally, Owen felt calmer.

“Nng, that’s the spot,” he said. “Was that Heal Pulse? You know Heal Pulse?”

“Mm,” Mispy said.

“Hey, uh,” Demitri said, rubbing his right tusk again. “Sorry about your bag.” He handed the tattered remains to Owen. “Most of the items got ruined from Mispy’s blast. But maybe there’s—”

Owen grabbed the bag and rummaged through it desperately. “Ah!” He pulled out two items—his Provisionary Badge, and Nevren’s gift. “It’s okay. This is all I needed!”

“Hey, we still messed up your inventory,” Demitri said. “How about we bring you back with us to our mentor’s place? He’s kinda good at repairing bags and stuff. Maybe he can patch it up?”

“Oh! Okay,” Owen said. He didn’t care about the bag. He got invited to a Heart’s home! And now that he had a moment’s pause, he wanted to see Rhys again, anyway.

_Again?_

Owen’s own thoughts gave him another pause.

“You okay?” Demitri asked.

“Dazed,” Mispy surmised with a nod. She gave Owen a little smile.

He stared at the three for an uncomfortably long time. Mispy shifted from her right feet to her left feet. Gahi clicked his jaws.

“I think I know you guys,” Owen finally admitted.

The three looked at one another. Then, back at Owen.

“You’re weird,” Mispy said.

“I—I kinda feel like we met before, too,” Demitri said. “That’s crazy! We must have good chemistry.”

Gahi’s jaws opened and closed in contemplation. “Meh. Let’s go.”

Owen rubbed his paws together to get off the dirt. “How’d you guys find me so quickly?”

“Well, we saw a bunch of burned Paras and other wild Pokémon near the entrance, so we figured you were still going through the Dungeon,” Demitri said.

A pit of guilt weighed on Owen’s stomach. “O-oh. I didn’t think my attacks would do that to—”

“Hey, self-defense,” Gahi said. “Besides, this place is overpopulated with those pests anyway. Isn’t enough food fer ‘em ter _all_ survive.”

“W-wait, how badly were they—”

“Aah, they’ll be fine. Wild Pokémon’re real resilient, I figure.”

Demitri nodded and rummaged for their Badge. They walked to the exit of the Dungeon and finally passed through; their Badges all blinked in a slow pattern. The raised ground of rock, embedded trees, and dirt transitioned into an open woodland.

“Made it,” Owen said, relieved.

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here,” Demitri said. He pressed the little heart-symbol in the middle of the badge once, and the others did the same. In a flash of reddish-white light, the Badge transported the group out of the forest and to the center of town.

 

 “Great work on apprehending this Pokémon, Hearts,” said a Watchog. “We will be sure to escort him away for his punishment.”

“It—it was a setup! I swear!” Aerodactyl pleaded. He was still smoking from the Solarbeam, and his left eye was purple and shut completely from Demitri’s Dual Chops. “I didn’t mean to steal all those things! I was under Hypnosis! I’m—I’m a sleeper cell, secretly, eh, secretly I go crazy when my master wants me to! And, eh, and my master is right in that building, over there!”

Owen didn’t even need his sharp senses to see _that_ lie. Watchog, too, was unconvinced.

“Hypnosis puts Pokémon to sleep. It doesn’t control them.”

“Feh, quit yer lyin’,” Gahi said. “Pay yer dues an’ don’t do it again.”

The Aerodactyl whimpered and ducked his head down, defeated.

“Oh—um,” Owen spoke up, “I almost forgot, but, can I report something?”

“Report? What else would you like to report?”

“I don’t want to… I don’t want to make anybody feel bad, but there was this really weird, really muscular, really angry-looking Snorlax in the same Dungeon that I found Aerodactyl—um, what’s your name, Aerodactyl?”

“Like I’d tell you,” he hissed.

Owen flinched. “W-well… w-well, I just thought it was strange to see a Snorlax there.”

“Hm, perhaps it was just your imagination. Were you hungry while fighting?”

“Not really. I just finished an apple, so.”

“Perhaps you were seeing things. Still, I will report it. Do not be worried. Strange Pokémon like those are seen in Dungeons all the time, and it’s nothing to be concerned with—so long as they don’t wander _out_ of those Dungeons.” He mumbled the last part. “Eh—we let our Elite Hearts deal with them. Now then.” He looked at Aerodactyl. “We will be going.”

And so, he was escorted away.

“Hmm,” Owen watched. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“Well, he was wanted for theft. Targeted explorers and took everything they had on them,” Demitri said. “We actually took that Mission because he was said to be in the same Dungeon you went into. Sorta spelled bad news, when you put two and two together, y’know? Chances are he’s going to have to work his debts away to pay them all back. Maybe as a volunteer as a temporary rescue team member, a Broken Heart. Make a living. Then once he’s done, maybe he can continue that work with full pay.”

“So, he pays back his debts, and gets a job in the process? I wish it was that easy for me,” Owen mumbled. “My dad wants me to be a berry farmer because my sharp senses would let me tell when they’re ripe or not.”

“Goodra Anam says that a lot of thieves only do what they do because they don’t have the skills for anything else,” Demitri said.

“Feh, I think they’re jus’ weak-willed,” Gahi said.

“ _So_ ,” Demitri continued, “what happens is they can contribute back to society instead of being worse than some random wild Pokémon. That make sense?”

“Yeah! It totally does!” Owen said. “I can’t believe it’s so nice, though! I guess Anam is even better than I thought.”

“Heh. Well, anyway, let’s show yeh ter our personal Waypoint,” Gahi said.

 

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi lived in a small cave near the western base of the mountain. The rocks here were a lot lighter—closer to a reddish-brown color than the dark basalt of Kilo Village’s crater. Trees were immediately beyond the rocky exterior of their home, with Oran Berries growing from the tops of some, and apples from others. Gentle winds washed the leaves, making the ripe fruits fall from their branches when a particularly strong gust passed.

“Convenient,” Owen said. “And the Waypoint led us almost right to here.”

“Yeah, all Hearts get that sorta treatment,” Gahi said. “Guess it’s a benefit fer workin’ under the Association, keepin’ th’ world nice an’ safe.”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “But, it’s just so cool! The way you guys just beat that Aerodactyl without any trouble!”

“Well, there was a little trouble,” Demitri said.

“Yeah, had ter keep yeh safe,” Gahi said. “But sure. No trouble.”

“Mnn.” Mispy sniffed the air. She could smell dinner.

“That smells good,” Owen said. “Umm—so, your mentor! How is he? What’s he like in person and stuff?”

“Lucario Rhys is, uh, he’s nice,” Demitri said. “He just happens to also be really, er, strict, sometimes. You know. But it’s all part of being trained, right? I guess it’s not that bad.”

“Jus’ wish he didn’t make us meditate all mornin’,” Gahi said.

“Meditating?” Owen said. “You guys meditate, too? I do it all the time! It’s really nice to clear your head.”

“Aw, not you, too,” Gahi grumbled, wobbling into the cave.

Mispy, too, was disappointed. “Boring.”

“I—I’m not boring,” Owen squeaked.

“Oy, Rhys! We’re home!” Gahi said. “Mission went fine! Brought a guest!”

“A guest?” Rhys said. “I should prepare another portion.”

Owen ran to get a first look. And there he was: Elite Heart Lucario Rhys. His red eyes were intense, but Owen felt oddly safe when looking into them. His aura sensors—the strange, black, teardrop-like extensions behind his ears—were a bit larger than average.

“H-hi!” Owen said. “It’s nice t-to meet you, Elite Heart!”

Rhys was staring at Owen for a bit longer than everyone in the room thought comfortable. Owen noticed his fur puff out. For a split-second, his paws glowed with a light blue, aura ember.

“Rhys?” Demitri said.

“I’m—sorry,” Rhys said. “I was thinking about what I could prepare for a Charmander.”

 _No, you weren’t,_ Owen thought. “Oh! Anything’s fine,” he said. “I promise! I’m good to eat anything as long as it isn’t dirt.”

“Well, dirt ain’t how Rhys cooks,” Gahi said.

“Yeah, Rhys is a good chef!” Demitri said. “You’ll love whatever he makes.”

“Ha, okay,” Owen said. He looked around, taking in the new environment. The immediate entryway was a short walk, perhaps only a few of his tiny paces. After the entryway was a larger, dome-shaped segment of the cave. The stone table in the middle of the room was where they ate; the edges of the room had equipment like a stone stove, cabinets, and shelves for storing nonperishable food. Owen was surprised at how elaborate it was. “You guys really have a lot of stuff here!”

Rhys nodded. “With our earnings, we have been able to purchase a few luxuries,” he said.

Owen sat at the table. From where he was positioned, he could see further into the cave. It was like a hallway that split off into separate rooms. Four in total. One was the closest, forking to the right. This one led into a room that had a faint, white glow in it. None of the other rooms glowed. The second room was to the left, and two more were further in. Perhaps they were for each of the Pokémon that lived there. Owen deduced that the glowing one was Rhys’ room. What was in there?

What Owen saw next made him rub his eyes. There was a cloud of some kind—a very fine mist, like a pinkish haze. It didn’t move with any breezes. It was moving with a purpose. _Oh, no,_ Owen said. _Now I’m starting to see things! Can anybody else—_? Owen glanced at the others. Mispy’s leaf was twitching, like she had an itch. Demitri and Gahi were too focused on Rhys’ cooking.

Rhys was moving stiffly. That was odd. He usually moved with a graceful flow. Did he notice? “Rhys?” Owen spoke up. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, Owen, why do you ask?”

Owen looked at the pink cloud. It fled into Rhys’ room.

“So, uh,” Owen said, “Team Alloy. That’s a pretty cool name.”

“Alakazam Nevren helped us come up with it!” Demitri said. “It’s really cool. Something about how stronger metals are made from weaker metals working together. It’s awesome!”

“Hmph,” Rhys said.

“Heh, Rhys is mad ‘cause he didn’t say it firs’,” Gahi said.

Owen giggled. He had to admit, it sounded clever. He certainly saw that kind of fighting in the Dungeon, too. They worked very cohesively. He wondered if he’d be able to contribute to a team like that….

Out of the corner of his eye, the pink mist bobbed in and out of the room.

“Hey, so, is this cave haunted?” Owen asked.

“Yes,” Mispy blurted.

“Baah, no it ain’t,” Gahi said, waving his head dismissively. “You guys’re jus’ superstitious. Sometimes the wind blows funny, that’s all. Mispy always gets like this.”

“It’s true!” Mispy said.

Gahi and Demitri both looked at the hall. The pink mist was gone.

“L-look, this place is creepy sometimes, alright?” Demitri said. “We see little, like, colors floating around sometimes. All of us! So, it has to be real.”

“Colors? Like pink?” Owen said.

“Pink? No, usually greens and yellows,” Demitri said.

Rhys sighed. “I am the one who is most in tune with the aura,” he said. “And I say that whatever phenomenon it is, it’s nothing to worry about. Now, enough talk of spirits. Dinner is ready.”

And just like that, their idle talk about ghosts subsided. It must have been a common occurrence for it to be dismissed so easily, but Owen decided to put this piece of the puzzle in his mental notes. A pink cloud? It felt like it wanted him to follow. But he couldn’t do anything about it now. That’d get him kicked out for sure. He’d have to find another opportunity later.

Rhys served out the food—a hearty stew, this time, filled with mostly savory items. Owen happily gobbled his portion; it reminded him of what he ate for breakfast. Breakfast…. “Oh!” Owen suddenly said. “I—I totally forgot! My parents were gonna freak out if I didn’t get back before the evening!”

Owen thought to use his Badge, but having just used it to return to the Central Waypoint in Kilo Village, it wouldn’t have the energy to warp him again until tomorrow. More importantly, he didn’t have a Waypoint registered for Hot Spot Cave—after all, if someone stole his Badge, they could theoretically warp right to that secret village. He’d have to use the public warp pads instead, and then walk the rest of the way.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Demitri said. “We’ll just bring you home instead! Your parents won’t worry _too_ much, right?”

“Dad might explode,” Owen said. “Literally. He’s a Magmortar, and he kinda does this thing with his arms when he’s nervous, and I’m worried he might—like—fire into his own hand, or something? I dunno what happens after that. But he might actually die from anxiety if I don’t get home in time.”

“Uhh—well—too late now,” Demitri said. “We’ll just run really fast to get you there?”

“O-oh, uh, actually, about that. My parents said that I can’t bring people back home because it’s a secret where I live, and stuff,” Owen said.

“I see,” Rhys said, nodding. “That’s understandable.”

“Wait, it is?” Demitri said. “How is that—who has a secret home?!”

“Some areas enjoy privacy, I suppose,” Rhys said. “Don’t worry, Owen. But it’s still a bit unsafe to wander alone at night without supplies. Hrm, but your parents will still worry, won’t they? Will they go somewhere for—”

This was his chance. “It’s okay,” Owen said. “I think I’ll let _you_ lead me home, Lucario! Or, u-um, I can just go on my own.”

“You may call me Rhys,” he said with a small smile. “And I would be happy to.”

He would? Owen didn’t expect that to work. In fact, in hindsight, it felt forward, and rude. But there was an odd sort of _familiarity_ that he felt with Rhys. Then again, aside from the Aerodactyl, that was how he’d been feeling all day. And Rhys seemed to know him, too, given how he just let him use his name.

“Okay—Rhys. Um, since you’re an Elite, I can trust you with a secret, right?”

“Of where your parents live?” Rhys asked. “Revealing this to me will change nothing.”

“Okay,” Owen said. “Then after dinner, it’s really okay if…?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “It shouldn’t be a very long walk, yes?”

“Nope! The Waypoint is really close.”

With the thought that he’d be able to walk and talk with one of the best Hearts in the whole world, Owen ate the rest of his dinner faster than a Swalot.

 _Okay,_ Owen thought between bites. _So, everything today feels weirder than usual. And I’m_ pretty sure _I wasn’t dreaming last night. Did Dad actually explode? Did I get attacked by another of those mutant things? Nngh, or am I just losing it? Nevren’s a Psychic, right? Maybe he can fix my brain._

He then glanced at Rhys’ room. He saw the pink mist again. _Oh, Mew in the stars_ , he thought, taking his final bite. _Can’t I have just one normal day?_


	4. Ceremony of Advancement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen gets tested to find out if he's ready to become one of the Thousand Hearts Association. In the process, he gets more attention than usual due to his odd strength in relation to his unevolved species.

With dinner finished and plates cleaned, Rhys dismissed the trio to their rooms. Gahi wobbled into the left, deeper room. Demitri and Mispy head into the left room that was closer to the kitchen. Owen noticed that Mispy was being quite pushy with Demitri, playfully prodding at his back with her vines on the way into their room. Demitri, meanwhile, meekly bumped against her with his tusks, flicking his tiny tail against her front legs, which earned a giggle in response.

“Bah, get a room,” Gahi muttered.

“We are,” Mispy teased.

Owen chuckled nostalgically at the three. He decided, for now, to ignore why he had felt like reminiscing on memories he did not have. Seeing the three head into the two bedrooms answered the use of two of the rooms. Figuring one of the remaining two was Rhys’ room, that left one unaccounted for.

“Uh, Rhys?” Owen asked. “What’s that room supposed to be? The one there?” he asked.

“The furthest, right room? That is for storage of our items,” Rhys said. “Extra items that aren’t supported as easily in the official Association storage facilities. Spare furniture, and the like.”

“Oh, so the glowy room is yours?” Owen asked, leaving no question unasked.

“Yes,” Rhys said.

“So,” Owen said slowly, “why’s it glow?”

“I have a few items in my room that glow,” he said. “It is nothing else, really.”

“Oh, okay,” Owen said. He wasn’t convinced. “Nothing about any ghosts, maybe? Spirits, little,” Owen paused, “pink clouds?”

“Pink,” Rhys repeated. “Are you sure it was pink?”

The right side of Owen’s lips twitched upward. He got him this time. “Yeah, definitely pink,” he said.

“Hrmm,” Rhys said. “Owen, what was this pink cloud doing?”

“Kinda, well, bobbing around when I looked at it. And then it went into your room.”

“I see,” Rhys said. “Thank you, Owen. I will investigate this later, but it’s far too late tonight. I will take you home.”

Owen relented. It _was_ late, and he _was_ tired, and Alex _was_ going to blow up with worry. A fresh day could help him think straight.

After a few quick warps—one to Kilo Village, and then another to his usual Waypoint, Owen led the way. His tail flame helped to light the path. “So, this is Hot Spot Road,” Owen said. To the left was a rocky hill with boulders the size of Rhys. To the right was a great field of light green grass that went up to Owen’s chest.

“If you take a left into that cave,” Owen said, pointing at a small entrance, “there’s actually a Dungeon that you could explore. A lot of Fire Types live there, and even some Rock and Ground Types. But mostly Fire Types.”

“Not very advantageous for a Pokémon like myself,” Rhys mused. “Quite, mm, melty, for a Steel Type.”

“Yeah! Good thing we aren’t going that way,” Owen said. He continued, waving his fiery tail left and right. The ember at the end fluctuated in its intensity, going from a blazing flame to a shrinking ember.

Should he say it? No. He’d look like a complete lunatic. But if he didn’t ask, it’d bother him all night, and then the next night. He _had_ to ask. So, he stopped walking.

Rhys stopped, too, as if he knew it was coming.

“Rhys…” Owen said. He turned to face him. “Do I know you?”

For just a second, it was as if the very wind had stopped between them. For that iota of an instant in time, nothing else mattered but him, the Lucario, and the empty space between them. The rustling, tall grass quieted. The sun set, and twilight ruled the world, save the flame that lit Owen’s back.

The Lucario’s eyes, which glowed just _barely_ in the darkness, held no expression; that, in itself, was abnormal to Owen. Why would someone not react to such an outlandish statement unless they were _prepared_ for it?

But after that silence, Rhys replied. “Well, I imagine you would,” he said. “As an Elite Heart, I’m known by many.”

Not good enough. “No, but… _know you_ , know you,” Owen pressed. “Like I used to chat with you and stuff. Do you ever get the feeling that you know somebody for a lot longer than you actually do? That there’s more to it?”

Rhys blinked a few times. Owen’s heartbeat picked up in both frequency and intensity. He tried to get a read for Rhys and his tension, but it was too hard. He was too controlled this time. Owen had a knack for being aware of these bodily cues, but he couldn’t get anything from Rhys.

Finally, Rhys answered. “I do not believe in love at first sight.”

Simultaneously, Owen’s tail burned white, and his heart skipped a beat. “N-not in _that_ way!” he squeaked.

He turned around and walked again. He puffed into his hands, letting the flames escape through cracks between his fingers. How could he have said it in that way? As if he was trying to propose to Rhys some sort of—lifelong—Owen shook his head fiercely, imagining a scenario where Rhys would have blushed and said yes. He’d’ve had to let Rhys down nicely, say that wasn’t what he meant. And then, for all eternity, any interaction he’d ever have with his idol would be awkward.

Slowly, color returned to Owen’s scales. “Sorry,” he finally said. “I guess I’m just a little tired after the day. I didn’t expect to get pelted by rocks in that forest, is all. I don’t think Aerodactyl are supposed to know Rock Blast. Maybe I’m just delirious.”

“Mm, that could be it. I’m glad that I can give off such a friendly aura, though. Thank you, Owen.” Rhys chuckled. At least _one_ of them got to be happy….

“Ha! Totally,” Owen agreed. He was screaming inside.

He didn’t know what to make of it, so he just smiled and laughed. He saw no other opening to probing Rhys for those odd feelings of familiarity. He’d have to deal with tossing and turning at night anyway.

He huffed a small sigh, a few sparks of irritability leaving his nostrils. He was home. “So, don’t tell anybody about this, okay? We’re going to Hot Spot Village—it’s a secret, underground town. That’s where I live. And, um, you can only get in if you say the passcode, and do the pose.” Owen said the last part at such a soft tone that Rhys only heard it thanks to his keen hearing.

 “Pose,” he said, blinking.

“Yeah. Okay, so, I’ll do it, but you have to turn away!”

“Of course,” Rhys said, humoring him. He turned around and waited, arms crossed.

Owen, after verifying that Rhys wasn’t watching, turned toward what looked like an innocuous boulder next to the road. Each syllable was accompanied by a motion. He whispered, albeit loudly, the words:

“Hot! Spot! Hot! Spot! Open up, Hotspot Cave!” Owen had raised his left arm up, then his right arm, and then brought his left arm down, and then his right arm. This was followed by swaying to the left, and then the right, and then the left and right again; next, he stepped backward, finally advanced forward.

Rhys was rubbing the top of his muzzle, cringing. He wasn’t the only one. Every time Owen did this dance, a tiny part of his Char heart withered away.

“There,” Owen said. He looked back and saw Rhys trying to hide from the world with his paw. “…What? It’s not too bad. And nobody would dare do it, so it’s the perfect disguise!”

After a brief delay, the boulder rolled to the right, revealing a hidden passageway into the ground. It was dimly lit by blue mushrooms that gave off a soft, cyan glow.

“Thanks, Rhys!” Owen said. “That was a really safe trip. You should get home now, huh?”

“Yes. Thank you for letting me guard you, Owen,” he said. “Stay safe. Be sure to keep up your meditation.”

“Oh, sure!” Owen said. “Yeah, you make Team Alloy do the same thing, right?”

“Yes, I do, that’s right,” Rhys said. “It’s very important for everyone.”

“Yeah. Okay! See you, Rhys!”

Owen watched Rhys leave for a bit longer. No, it wasn’t just some delusion. Unless he completely lost it, Rhys was hiding something. And perhaps Nevren, too. But then again, he probably just heard and saw them a lot. Both of them. They were Elite Hearts, after all.

Owen closed his eyes. There was no use focusing on the negative. Every night ended like this, wondering if he’d done something, or everything, of that day before. At some point, it got tiring. He just wanted this perceived monotony to end. But hey, he didn’t have another mental crisis, panicking because he couldn’t remember how old he was. Oh, no. The thoughts were coming back.

He refocused on the positive. “Oh, wow,” he said. “I met two Elites in one day! That’s so… cool!” He bounced slightly, but then remembered the timer on the boulder. He ran in the cave; a few seconds later, the boulder rolled back onto the passageway.

He ran past a few other inhabitants in the cavern. There was Auntie Arcanine—an old Pokémon who always had an apple or two for him to eat. She waved at Owen as he passed. There was also a Fennekin, Chimchar, and Flareon trio that often played near the entrance at night, before their parents would tell them to pack it in for the night. A little hidden village. If anything, he knew he had the townsfolk to see, even if he wasn’t particularly close to any of them.

Owen’s house was near the back of the village, where it was even hotter. He wasn’t sure how his mother, in particular, handled this heat, but for all his life, she wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. Blue mushrooms lit the entirety of the cave; now that Owen thought about it, the glow reminded him of the aural fire in Rhys’ paws. The home itself was like a cave within a cave; it was a circular entrance—big enough for his father’s bulky, Magmortar frame to fit through—that led into larger, dome-like rooms. Owen then realized the parallel it had with Rhys’ home.

“I’m home, Mom! Dad!” Owen called, stepping into the first, largest room.

“Ohh, Owen!” Amia called back. The Gardevoir adjusted her blue hair; there was a bit of ash remnant on the right side, perhaps from one of the kids’ pranks. She greeted Owen with a scratch under his chin—something Owen always enjoyed. “How did your little exploration go? We heard about what happened. You got in a bit of a scare, didn’t you?”

“Just a little,” Owen said. Should he ask? He was going to ask. “Hey, how’d you find out, anyway? Nobody knows how to deliver letters here!”

“We checked the, er, the bulletin board at the crossroads,” Alex said, stepping inside from the bedroom to Owen’s left. “Someone in town must have put it there.” He tapped his cannon-arms together. “Y-you… you did fine, right? You aren’t hurt?”

“No!” Owen said. “And I already had dinner, too! Lucario Rhys treated me with his Entry Hearts. They were all really nice. Sorry that I was a little late.”

Both his parents’ eyes widened with alarm when he mentioned them, but Owen was so mentally exhausted that he decided that this was one battle he’d choose to ignore. He didn’t even want to bring up his dream. Too much. Later. Another day.

The two nodded. “Oh, I heard of them,” Amia said. “It’s nice that you made some new friends, Owen! But you know what we also heard?” she said. “Tomorrow is another big day for you.”

“Oh, yeah!” Owen said. “I might become an Entry Heart, too!”

“Exactly! So, get some sleep, Owen!”

“Totally!” Owen nodded. He ran right to bed.

Alex watched him go, and then glanced at Amia worriedly. She shook her head and held his shoulder.

“I trust Rhys,” she said quietly. “His students can interact with Owen. It… I don’t think it’ll result in… I mean… we _just_ turned him back. It’s happening faster and faster. What if…?”

“It won’t happen all at once,” Alex said. “Let’s just be very careful. I’ll come up with some chores that will keep him here when we need him close.”

 

The next afternoon was cloudier, much like Owen’s mood. He slept for perhaps an hour. Aside from essential missions for lost Pokémon or dangerous outlaws, there weren’t any Hearts going out that day. Instead, the southern portion of Kilo Village was packed, waiting for a big announcement at the top of the stairs to the main Association building.

The southern side of Kilo Village was usually only sparingly populated with passerby Pokémon entering the line of warp pads along the roadway. Now? It was a sea of Pokémon of all shapes and sizes. A Pachirisu was balanced atop a Rhydon’s head. A school of Magikarp hopped as high as they could to get precious glances at the stairs that led to the Heart. A pair of Girafarig chatted while their tails nipped at one another.

Alakazam Nevren was at the top of the stairs, assisting with setting up a new technology of his with the help of one of the Heart members—an Exploud. After making that Exploud hold two hooks and keep his mouth open, he handed a strange, black, rod-like device to the leader of all the Association, who finally emerged.

Owen had to pause only to admire the significance of this gathering. The sheer number—almost all of the thousand members of the Association were right there, in Kilo Village, at the same time. He shook himself to his senses. He had to get closer for a better view!

Owen was in the middle of the crowd, trapped between a Tyranitar and a Hippowdon. He was standing near the back, trying to get a look—but with all the bigger, stronger Pokémon in the way, this was impossible. “C’mon, c’mon—can I get a little room, please?” Owen begged, pressed between a rocky thigh and a sandy hide.

“Hey!” someone shouted.

Owen struggled to look back, finally slipping out from their crushing bodies.

Demitri was waving at them from a little hill. His green, scaly body was barely noticeable—he was just so small! His darker color scheme made for a nice complement Mispy’s light-green body; she assisted him, waving her vines to stand out more.

Owen thought it was a bit too far away, but he complied anyway, if only so he didn’t get stomped on. He rushed over, weaving between the crowd with a series of ‘sorry!’ and ‘excuse me!’ mumbles.

When he finally arrived, he sighed, picking off some remnant sand from between the scales of his arm. “Thanks,” Owen said.

“Here, if you want to get a better look, Rhys brought a Zoom Lens,” Demitri said, handing Owen a bulky pair of white glasses.

“Wh-what? These are pretty valuable, aren’t they? Aren’t these for being more accurate with your less reliable techniques?”

“Yeah, but there are better items to use in battle, so we just use this for times like these.”

“Where’s Rhys, anyway?” Owen asked, looking around.

“All Elite members are supposed to be up front to send off the retired Hearts,” Demitri said. “So, we’re standing here for now to watch. All the front seats are for the Elites, anyway.”

Owen nodded. He put the Zoom Lens on and looked at the front. He saw a bird-like Pokémon with a green, grassy hood.  There was an orange, X-shaped feather arrangement on his chest. “Oh! There’s Decidueye James!” Owen said.

“The second-in-command?” asked Demitri.

“What’s there?” Gahi asked, struggling to use the Zoom Lens on his huge head. “Bahh, these tools ain’t good fer Pokémon like me. Where’s th’ Trapinch-friendly gear?”

“Probably the same place you left half your vocabulary,” Demitri muttered. This earned a swat from Gahi’s head.

“Decidueye James,” Mispy said, using her vines to pull the two feuding Pokémon apart. They were strong enough to hold Gahi in the air, where his tiny legs were useless.

“Oy, oy, l-lemme go!” Gahi protested.

Demitri huffed and leaned against Mispy’s vines, rolling his eyes. He turned his attention back to the ceremony preparations. “It looks like he’s just working on that Exploud guy so we can all hear the Head.”

Gahi eventually calmed down enough for Mispy to set him back on the ground.

“Oh, oh!” Owen said. “There he is!”

This creature was a soft, lavender color. There were green circles along the sides of his head and tail, and he had long, antennae-like feelers coming off the back of his head. His eyes were big, and his body was slimy as ever. Owen knew the sight well. Goodra Anam had finally exited the building.

Anam took the device attached to the Exploud and looked at the crowd. He gave off a big, happy smile to them all. Owen didn’t need a Zoom Lens to see a smile that big. Anam waved, and slime shook off from the arm; James respectfully backed up to avoid dirtying his feathers.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming!” Anam shouted from the top. “I’d like to first welcome our Elite Hearts to the front, so that we can see the best of our Association—role models that I hope you all will aspire towards!”

Claps, stomps, and cheers echoed from the audience while the Elites all walked up. Owen spotted that Golem from before, and Rhys, and even Nevren. “Hey, what’s that?” Owen asked. Rhys was holding onto a small bag. Nobody else had one—why did Rhys bring a bag with him for this event?”

“Feh, he brought that weird glowin’ ball,” Gahi said.

“Glowing?” Owen asked, recalling the strange glow when he had dinner with them the night before. “What is that thing, anyway?”

“No idea,” Gahi said.

“It’s this weird, green, swirly thing, like a giant orb, y’know? But Rhys always says that we’re never, ever supposed to touch it,” Demitri said.

Mispy nodded. “Ever.”

“He moved it with a thick cloth and then sealed the bag,” Demitri said. “Not even _he_ wants to touch it.”

“I once made ‘m slip, though,” Gahi said. “He told me it’s really strong, heh. So, I guess he doesn’ wanna get too strong.”

“He keeps it on the highest shelf,” Demitri said. “Too tall for Mispy’s vines to reach, and Gahi’s too short.”

“And you hate heights,” Mispy mumbled.

“D-do not!” Demitri said.

“I would also like,” Anam said, “to take a moment of silence in acknowledgement of the hard work that our departed Hearts have done for Kilo Village, and indeed, the whole world.” Anam lowered his head. He then listed off a set of names, some of which Owen caught as familiar. They were all very old Pokémon that had worked at the dojo. Owen also heard names of younger Hearts, and realized that all of these ones had, over the year, died one way or another due to a mishap or other fatality in the line of duty.

Owen scanned the crowd immediately near Anam with his Zoom Lens. There was a Granbull next to a Nidoking, shoulder to shoulder. The Granbull was trembling slightly, but remained stoic. The only sign of emotion she showed was when she leaned against the Nidoking. He, meanwhile, was staring intensely at nothing, tears streaming down his face.

“We would like to thank Granbull Jin for his line of work, and grant him the title of Eternal Heart,” Anam said, looking down.

Owen remembered reading about this story moons ago, during the winter. A strange mutant that had been described as a Golduck by some and a Toucannon by others had gotten dangerously close to Kilo Village. Jin had gotten there first, and he fought it alone, buying time before the Elites had arrived.

“His sacrifice saved the lives of countless others. For that, we are eternally grateful, and we wish upon him eternal peace in the welcoming arms of Arceus.”

Owen shifted uncomfortably, keeping his head down.

“By His blessing,” Anam said, raising his arms slowly.

“By His blessing,” some of the audience echoed; Owen followed, slightly out of sync.

Owen glanced up, thinking that it was over, but then realized that nearly the entire crowd had their heads down in silence. Flame sparking, he quickly brought his head back down—but the corner of his eye caught something. He dared, and looked up again.

Anam was glowing. It was subtle, but under the dim light of the cloudy sky, the Goodra had a weak, blue glow. Rhys’ bag, too, was glowing. He was trying to cover it up with small movements of his paws.

As soon as it came, it faded. Anam and Rhys looked normal again, and the moment of silence passed.

“Thank you,” Anam said.

 _I—I’m not the only one who saw that, right?_ Owen said. _No, everyone had their heads down. But someone else had to have—_

He glanced at Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi. They were all looking down, too. He then looked to his right. He saw a pair of Pokémon murmuring to one another. He tried to listen in.

“Glowed? Did he glow?” one said.

“He did. It was weak, but I totally saw Goodra Anam glow! Maybe the rumors are true. They saw Anam used to be a priest of some sort. Maybe he really _is_ holy? Oh, thank Him, the whole town is blessed!”

 _Excuse me?_ Owen thought. _What kind of nutcase superstition is that?_ He dismissed the notion immediately. Glowing like that happened all the time! The Hot Spot Mushrooms glowed in the same way! It was simple bio-luminescence. Perhaps Anam was just a rare variety of Goodra. Owen told himself this to stay sane. The orb was the only thing abnormal. Nothing else!

“And now,” Anam said, “I’d like to have all sixteen Old Hearts come up.” He clapped at the incoming sixteen. Owen’s thoughts were interrupted, and he paid attention to the ceremony. “You all have done a great job for all of us, haven’t you? All of your work. None of it will be forgotten! The many Pokémon that you’ve rescued, the many outlaws that you’ve corrected… th-the fun times that we all shared together, training, talking… all of that… a-all of…!” Anam sniffled. Rhys rubbed the top of his muzzle.

The Goodra broke down in a wail, rubbing his eyes with his free arm, flinging off slime and gooey tears in many directions. The combination of paying his respects to the dead, and then saying goodbye to so many heroic Pokémon, was too much for the leader of Kilo Village.

James pried the Exploud-amplifier from Anam’s hands and continued the speech—which he had memorized for just such an occasion. “All of your efforts will be forever remembered in our records, and we all look forward to your relaxed lives as mentors and tutors for the next generation of Hearts that will take your place. We thank you all, and wish you all happy lives for many years to come.”

The audience, nearly as a whole, sighed.

Gahi remarked, “Every time with this guy.”

“It’s hard to believe that the leader of the Thousand Hearts Association has such a… bleeding heart for all his members,” Demitri said.

“Not really,” Mispy said.

“Yeah, I guess when I say it _that_ way, it makes perfect sense,” Demitri said.

It sounded like James was finishing up the speech that Anam was too scattered to finish. Instead, while James read out the retiring Hearts’ names, Anam shook the hands, paws, hooves, and wings of those retiring or—in the case of a Magcargo—giving a respectful, sniffling nod.

“Th-thank you, f-for all you’ve done!” Anam sniffed. “Nn… nggooh… mmbbbn…!”

A few of the Old Hearts were a bit misty-eyed, too. Perhaps it was contagious. Someone approached Nevren on the side. Whatever was said was enough for him to discretely descend the stairs to talk away from the crowd.

“Anam’s very compassionate,” Owen admitted. “I think that’s a good trait in a leader, even if he takes it a little far.” His fire brightened. “To think I might one day be standing in front of him, retiring after decades of hard work. And then I’d start teaching new Hearts how to fight in a dojo, or something like that. Yeah. That’s what I want. Maybe not the whole Arceus thing, but I’d like to be remembered a little.” He couldn’t wait to start.

“Ain’t you thinkin’ ahead,” Gahi said.

“I would also like to announce,” James said, scanning the crowd, “that with these sixteen Old Hearts leaving, we now need sixteen new members. To all those, ngh, _Heart-working_ individuals with Provisionary Association Badges, we will be holding preliminary tests throughout today in the many dojos in Kilo Village.”

“Heh,” Gahi said. “Well lookit that, Owen. Guess that means yer gonna—where’d he go?”

Owen was already sprinting to the dojo. He passed by Nevren, overhearing a passing conversation about a strange Pokémon in the woods near the western exit.

“. . . Some kind of mutant.”

“Say no more. I will take . . .”

Apparently Nevren volunteered to take care of it—and at any other time, Owen would have been interested in finding out more. But this time, his priorities were hyper-focused on examinations.

 

Owen was third in line. They were using some sort of specialized scanner in conjunction with the use of a technique to determine everybody’s aptitude for combat—some sort of invention by Nevren again, taking into account energy output, aural readings, and user fatigue. Owen had read all about it—Nevren’s Ultimate Performance Analyzer! Unfortunately, it was only limited to small spaces, was big and heavy, had to be installed underground, and had to be set up with a lot of prep work. Perfect for dojos, but nowhere else.

The building was lined in white-painted stones and a dirt floor riddled with fissures and blemishes. Near the entrance, there was a metallic circle lodged in the dirt. The Shieldon had been standing on top of this middle circle—the marker for the user to be analyzed—and performed one of his techniques against a very realistic-looking dummy of Decidueye James. A spire of Stone pierced through the dummy, and it vanished in a puff of black smoke.

“Your score is 974. Your ID is Shieldon-2.”

Higher scores got priority—it showed experience in battle, if anything, along with their raw strength, regardless of species. Owen knew that being too tired after using a technique would subtract from the score, but using a technique that was too weak wouldn’t net many points to begin with.

“Oh boy, oh boy…” Owen said. He remembered studying up on Nevren’s articles on what these scores meant. Most of it was jargon, but the important parts he remembered. The more one used their techniques, the stronger they became—practice makes perfect—but along with that, the more one fought, the more in tune the body became with the aura. That, Owen recalled, was part of Rhys’ Theory of Aural Augmentation—the idea that Pokémon techniques drew from a hidden power buried within the aura, and that constant use in battle would strengthen and widen the channel to that hidden power. Rhys claimed it was _divine energy_ , but Owen was skeptical of something as superstitious as that.

“672. Your ID is Yanma-1.”

Second in line.

“Oy, Owen!”

“Huh?” Owen looked back. Gahi had caught up; Demitri and Mispy were huffing and puffing to catch up. “Oh, hey!”

“Nice ter see yeh,” Gahi said. “Gonna, eh, take that test?”

“Yeah!” Owen said.

Demitri and Mispy glanced at each other.

“It sounds like a lot of these candidates are kinda on the weaker side,” Demitri said. “Anybody at their lowest form might not….”

“Really?! Then I’ll definitely get in!” Owen said.

“Yer really a late-evolver?” Gahi asked skeptically.

“Yeah. You’ll see. I’m gonna score something too high for a Charmander—something way past the usual cutoff before I’d’ve evolved into Charmeleon, or even Charizard!”

“Eh?” Gahi said. “Well, yeh weren’t kiddin’ about bein’ a late evolver. That’s _real_ late.”

“I know, right?” Owen said. “Ugh, I wish my body would just _get it_ already.”

“1,863. Your ID is Jolteon-1.”

Owen stiffened. “Oh! It’s my turn!” he said. He stepped forward and held still on the strange device below him. The one managing the device was a Rhyperior; Owen wondered if it was hard to work the square tablet he was holding with those monster-claws.

“Alright,” the Rhyperior said, “Focus your energy and use an offensive technique. Just attack the air. Don’t do anything too crazy. Bring in the next Substitute doll!”

A Delphox placed another copy of James a few paces in front of Owen and stepped away.

“Right.” Owen focused on the flame within and blasted the doll; set ablaze, the doll vanished in another puff of ominous, black smoke. Owen wondered if Substitute dolls always vanished in that way; he’d never really seen the technique in action before, let alone so many. How long did it take James to make them all?

“Your score is… hrm. Hold on,” he said.

“What’s it say?”

“It’s too high for a Charmander. Hang on.”

“No, it’s right,” Owen said. “I’m a late evolver.”

“Late what? Listen, kid, while we don’t really have an exact number, I’ve never seen a kid-‘mon like you score higher than 600 on these things. Unless you’re holding an Everstone or something, or you just choose not to evolve, you can’t be higher than that. No clue why you’d do that unless you’re a Chansey with an Eviolite or whatever, but….”

“876. That’s the highest score ever seen for a Charmander that wasn’t me.”

“Right, sure. And this reading says 1,498. _Way_ too high.”

“Exactly, right?! Wait—that’s all? What?”

“Step out for a sec.”

Owen stood aside, staring pensively at the ground. His score used to be a lot higher than that! Was he getting rusty?

The assistant set up the device and stood on the platform. He sent a volley of three rocks toward the ground where Owen had scorched the stone tile. He didn’t use a Substitute doll for it—apparently, all he needed was to strike the ground to get it calibrated, or he just had an easier time without a target to focus on.

Owen stiffened at the rocky attack, recalling the sharp pain on his back and head.

Rhyperior stepped off after to check his score. “5,792… That sounds about right. Okay. It’s recalibrated. Let’s try again.”

“Okay,” Owen said. “I’ll stand again?”

Everybody watched with interest. What would a Charmander be doing with such a high score? Did he swallow an Everstone fragment? No, that wouldn’t have lasted for so long. When the Delphox placed another James Substitute in front of him, Owen fired another Ember at it. This time, it didn’t vanish—likely because it was a fresh doll, unlike the last one.

“Okay, what’s the funny business here?” said the measurer. “Now it’s even higher. Bah, this thing… I’m gonna log you down at the first score. Your ID is Charmander-1. You’ll get filtered out in the practical exams if it turns out to be wrong. Fair?”

“W-wait, you can’t maybe log me as the new score instead?”

“Trust me,” he said, “if either of those scores are right, you’re in. Just take it.”

Owen puffed a little ember into his hands. “Okay, thank you,” he said curtly. This was going to be at least another half-hour of meditating.

“Hey, good job!” Demitri said. “So, you’re going to get into the preliminaries! That’s nice, right? That’s gonna happen later in the afternoon, y’know. And then, after that—uh, if it goes the same way as last time—you’ll find out in the evening if you’re in or not. Fast!”

“Yeah… Yeah!” Owen nodded. “That’s right! This is my shot!”

“We don’t have any urgent missions to take care of,” Demitri said, “so we’ll be there to cheer you on when you take them!”

Owen nodded. Even if nobody believed his numbers, he would be able to prove himself in the practical exam. Then they’d see—after that, he’ll finally be a full-fledged Heart.

Owen took a short breath to gather his thoughts. As excited as he was about the exams, he still had some time to kill. The lingering thoughts of the orb in Rhys’ bag returned to him.

“Hey,” Owen said to Demitri. “Where’s Rhys? I want to talk to him again.”


	5. Strange Meditation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen takes the practical exams to become an Entry-Level Heart, but ends up being taken by Nevren alone to take his test, rather than with a group. Not only that, but once he's there, he gets a strange vision when he meditates. This altitude isn't treating Owen very well...

Owen forced himself to settle down for lunch. He didn’t know if his heart was racing or sluggish. It was a strange mixture of beating quickly, and then slowing down to rhythmic, loud booms. The excitement killed his appetite, like his stomach was already satiated with his hopes, dreams, fears, and anxieties, but he knew he had to force something down for the mission portion of the exams.

He was sitting at Ludicolo Café, lined with bright brown walls and large, green tables that resembled a Ludicolo’s hat. Ludicolo himself was dancing along the aisles, serving drinks, along with other assistant waiters and waitresses. The exams were a bit of a spectacle for the average citizen, and the activity was a strain on the staff. Owen hoped they got paid extra for this day.

He was downing a simple sandwich and an apple smoothie. He spotted Lucario Rhys entering the café with the trio. _Good, they got him._

“Hey!” Owen called, waving. His tail blazed a bit brighter with joy. There was something that warmed his heart about seeing those four, no matter the circumstance.

“Hey, where’s yer folks?” Gahi asked. “Y’know, the ones at that place Rhys brought yeh.”

“Oh, they have to stay inside and do their own work and stuff,” Owen said. “They knew I’d be doing all these qualifiers, but…!”

“I’m sure they’ll be very proud,” Rhys said, nodding.

Owen eyed the bag around his neck. It was glowing slightly again.

“Well, go on,” Rhys told the three. “Get your food. You skipped breakfast, after all.”

“Meh,” the Trapinch grumbled, wobbling forward first.

Owen watched them get in line, but then turned to Rhys. “You aren’t eating?”

“There is no need for now. I will have lunch later,” he said.

“How come they skipped breakfast?”

“They weren’t going on a mission, so I used that as punishment,” Rhys said. “They would have a big lunch to compensate. They were trying to touch some of my treasures again.”

“You mean that orb in your bag?”

Rhys was quiet.

“It’s kinda glowing again, isn’t it?” He tilted his head. He leaned forward to get a better look, but Rhys placed a paw over it. “I think that pink mist I saw earlier came from that bag. Do you think it wants me to touch—”

“You simply shouldn’t,” Rhys said. “It would be very bad if you touched it here.”

Owen watched Rhys carefully. “Do you know what that mist was? Or who?”

“I cannot be certain,” Rhys lied.

“Can I at least see it?”

“You may not,” Rhys said.

“Is it too strong for normal Po—” Someone tapped on his shoulder. “H-hey! Nevren!”

“I was looking for you!” Nevren said. He was holding the aural analyzer. “I wanted to congratulate you on breaking the Charmander record, though I should probably mark it down as an outlier in the logs. After all, you’re a late-evolver, as you call it, hm?”

“Yeah. I scored, uh, enough that the assistant wanted to recalibrate the thing. But it was still not that good—I hope I’m not getting weaker from taking easy assignments or something. I’ve been feeling a little off lately, actually,” Owen babbled.

Rhys glanced at Nevren, but then at Owen. “Indeed, you’re quite strong for a Charmander.”

“It isn’t as if Trapinch, Axew, and Chikorita score such high numbers, either,” Nevren noted. “And yes, it’s quite high, but it’s still weak in the grand scheme of the Hearts. Still, he has the benefits of my Eviolite that I gave him to boost his defenses,” Nevren said. “Though, during the exams, you will have to go without it.”

“Aw, I’ll do fine,” Owen said. “That Aerodactyl was a fluke.”

“Ahh, Aerodactyl, yes,” Nevren said. “He was quite strong, wasn’t he? I imagine if he cooperated, his performance at the test you took would be quite substantial.” He nodded. “Ahh, Rhys. And how are you doing?”

“Just fine, Nevren,” Rhys said.

Owen sensed, for the briefest of moments, a thickness in the atmosphere. Muscles on Rhys in particular felt tense, and Nevren was standing still for a longer period of time than usual. Owen rubbed his head—his awareness of the bodies nearby was starting to get to him in such a crowded place. He wished he could turn it off.

“Back!” Gahi said, hauling his head onto the table. His plate slid in front of him from the top of his jaws, and he got to eating. Demitri and Mispy sat near Owen, with Demitri being closer.

“D’you like this café, Owen?” Demitri asked.

“It’s good for something quick, and the smoothies! Perfect! I visit here all the time.”

Nevren eyed the four of them slowly. “Well! You seem to have these trainees in order, Rhys,” he said. “Will you be overseeing them?”

“Y-yes,” Rhys said. “I will, though Owen has elsewhere to be than my home.”

“Ahh, that’s true,” Nevren said. “Though, I suspect you may want to mentor him. Is that right?”

There it was again. Owen was _sure_ of it this time. Tension. He felt an aura of irritation, the flicking of Rhys’ tail, the bristling of fur. Or perhaps there was something more. What was it? From Rhys? Or Nevren?

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I think I will.”

Owen stopped focusing on the atmosphere and realized the words being said. “Wait—Rhys, you’re gonna be my mentor?”

“ _If_ you pass,” Rhys said.

“I’m gonna get Rhys as a mentor! Y-yes! Yes!” Owen stood up. Forget the creeping dread—he was about to get trained by an Elite! He sprinted off; all that was left behind of him was a stray ember from his tail.

“Wh-where’re you going?!” Demitri said.

“Exams!”

“He left a bit of his sandwich,” Demitri mourned.

One of Mispy’s vines greedily wrapped around the remains, pulling it toward her plate.

 

There was a long line for the exams. Due to the irregular sizes of everybody waiting in the queue, there was no telling how many were actually there. Between the Rhydon immediately behind him and the squad of Eevee evolutions in front of him, it could have been anywhere between five and fifteen Pokémon ahead. Despite this, when Owen stepped in line, it became even longer behind him.

“Talk about lucky,” he said. He leaned to the side to get a better look at what the exams were like. Last year, they were mock-Dungeon explorations. It seemed to be the same case this time around. Owen was first able to register his ID, and afterward, waited with the other Pokémon agonizingly for his name to be called—one way or the other—to go into testing. All the times before, he had been rejected. He wasn’t sure why. He did well in the analyzer and screener portions. But there were just so many other candidates that were better, he figured. But despite the pit in his stomach from the past days, he had a good feeling about _today_. This was going to be better. It had to be. Right?

It looked like candidates were heading into different Waypoints with established Hearts. Owen recognized most of the tiles as connections to weaker Dungeons that he’d be able to easily beat. If the test was to just get past those—this would be easy! He also noticed Anam standing in the back, watching every Heart get assigned. James was reading from a list, showing it to Anam every time. Every so often, Anam shook his head, and James seemingly skipped that line. How odd. Did Anam have final say? Once a name was given approval, James passed the word to the announcer. Owen’s heart picked up the pace. Did his name just get skipped? Was that it?

Names that didn’t get skipped were called by a Golem, acting as announcer.

Three more Pokémon were called in, and Owen shuffled aside to let them through. He spotted Nevren walking past them; the Alakazam glanced at him, and then flashed a small smile. He then spoke quietly to the Pokémon at the front, managing the candidates, and then walked away.

James showed Anam the list again, and this time, he was staring at it for a long time. So long, in fact, that Owen and the others in the group wondered what the holdup was. Anam mumbled something to James, and James mumbled something back. Nevren stepped over and checked who was on the list. He tapped Anam on the shoulder—a trail of slime connected his finger to Anam thereafter—and said something else.

 _C’mon, body, why can’t you zero in on what they’re saying?_ Owen complained, but the crowd around him distracted both his ears and whatever other strange sense he had going for him. There was no body language for him to detect from so far away.

And then, finally, Golem spoke again. “Next! Charmander-1!”

Wait. He was called? He was called! He made it into the practical exam! “Y-yes!” he replied.

The crowd waited anxiously for two more names to be called.

“Oh, sorry, everyone. Nevren wants to personally test Owen alone,” Golem said, “since he is such an exceptional case with his test results.”

“S-sorry…” Owen said. He didn’t need to look back to feel the envious glares. “How come I’m exceptional? Oh, because I’m a late-evolver and stuff?”

“Yeah. For a Charmander, at least. You sure you didn’t eat an Everstone or something?”

“No! I’m just a late evolver. I’ll totally evolve soon! So much for being a kid, huh?” Owen remembered this Golem from before. Still, he figured he should stop letting his size dictate his behavior. If he kept getting insecure about his size and stature, maybe he _did_ deserve to be called a kid.

“Ahh, Owen!” Nevren called. “Good to see you. It’s about time that we leave for your test. Please, come with me.”

 

Eternal Whistler Cave was on the northern peaks, with ancient, black mountains carved by a constant, shredding wind. The cave itself was a structure with an entrance on one side, and an entrance on the opposite side; the wind blew through this mountain almost constantly. The result was a noise of wind running through the cave, like a deep whistle or moan of some great titan. The easy way through the cave was to follow the wind, which blew from the south toward the north; the difficult way was against it. There was a Dungeon in the middle of these caves. Nevren took them to the hard way.

The ocean was behind them; sheer cliffs threatened to plunge Owen to his death if he took a single misstep. And, in fact, he had nearly done so quite a few times. He imagined using his Badge as an emergency warp-away would be an automatic failure for this test. Still, it wasn’t the fall that frightened him the most, or the constant wind. Even with his Fiery attributes, the combination of the altitude, the wind, and the cold made for a challenge that no wild Pokémon could pose.

“S-so… c-cold…!” Owen said.

“Keep it up, Owen! The caves will be quite windy.”

“Y-you don’t s-say?”

Waves crashed on the rocks far below. Owen decided long ago not to look down. If he fell, the descent would last at least ten seconds. He didn’t want to find out what would kill him first—the cold of the water, or the force of the impact.

The black mountain’s rocks were worn down from constant erosion. There were very few loose ones; only the biggest, densest boulders could withstand the constant force. Owen felt like one of the small rocks. He had to lean his body forward just to advance, and a single misstep—he’d tumble backwards and off the mountain for sure. His flame, half its usual size, cried for shelter.

Owen’s bag was securely fastened around his neck, pushed so strongly by the wind that the strap left an imprint on the scales of his chest. If he stayed in this sort of wind any longer, it’d surely fuse into his body completely. He squinted through the gusts and followed Nevren into the cave. As promised, it was even windier than before. “Oh, come on!” Owen screamed over the wind.

“We’re almost there!” Nevren said.

The walk took a bit longer until, finally, Nevren made an odd turn into an alcove. There, when Owen entered, the wind became much weaker. It was just a room with a rocky wall, but the tunnel ended abruptly in a dead end.

“Wh—huh?” Owen built up the courage to open his eyes completely.

“This is an offshoot from the main path,” Nevren said. “The wind has nowhere to continue through. It will be weaker here. An ideal spot to meditate, don’t you think? Before we enter the Dungeon proper.”

“Oh—yeah! Did I mention that I meditate to you? I must’ve forgotten,” Owen nodded. “It really helps me to clear my head. Sometimes I can even get to think up new fighting techniques, y’know?”

Nevren nodded. “I’ll give you an opportunity to do that,” he said, “before we have our true Dungeon exploration.”

“Okay, sure!” Owen found a nice spot near the right side of the offshoot and sat down. “…Say, Nevren,” he said.

“Hmm?” Nevren was settled on the opposite side of the offshoot.

“You’re a Psychic Type, right? So, does that mean you’re sorta more in tune with the mind?”

“Well, yes, though I would say the stereotype is a bit _exaggerated_.”

“That’s good, um,” Owen said, but then paused to consider how to phrase it, “because I think I’m crazy. I don’t want to—to make you worried or anything, but sometimes I just get this feeling that I’ve done something before. This stuff, right now? This feels new. But, like, talking to Rhys, and his students, feels like I’m having the same conversation all over again.”

“Ah, how strange,” Nevren said. “But I do not think you are crazy. Perhaps you are just excited.”

“Excited,” Owen repeated. “And what about if…” Owen wondered if he should mention the pink mist. “Uh… never mind. I’m probably just sleep-deprived. I was so excited for today that I only slept for, maybe, a blink’s worth of time, y’know?”

“Ah. Well. What better way to freshen the mind than to meditate?” he asked.

“Yeah, okay,” Owen said. He closed his eyes and steadied his breath. _Clear my mind. Just listen to the world,_ he thought to himself, and then attempted to think no longer.

The whistling of the wind was all that filled his head. He was well-versed in this sort of meditation, and he was able to slip into the state very easily, only vaguely aware of the world around him. Owen’s thoughts became deeply inward, envisioning himself standing in a void. His body no longer moved—only his inner body, like his aura, in his thoughts, in this void. He went into a battle stance in this void, blasting plumes of fire in the dark. They became Flamethrowers shortly after. He stomped on the ground, leaving Fire Traps where he stepped. Shadowy creatures, envisioned dummies, chased him to put the traps to use, defeating them easily.

Owen was surrounded. He blasted the dummies ahead of him with flames, clearing the way, and stomped on the ground for the dummies behind him. Then, he ran ahead. His body grew. It reddened and became taller; his flame became hotter. A horn emerged from the back of his head. The Charmeleon in the void spun around and scorched the dummies. He crouched forward, and his back expanded; the outer layer of his scales and skin split open, forming wings; the single horn split as well, becoming two on either side of the back of his head. Yes! Oh, the feeling, this was what he wanted, what he always imagined. Charizard! To fly through the sky, scorching his foes below. More, higher, stronger—keep fighting! Don’t let the fire go out! It was a surreal mixture of elation and serenity. A fantasy that calmed his aura. Slowly, his Charizard aura touched upon the ground, and the flames died down. Calm, calm. Keep it all calm. Burn slowly. Crackle, crackle….

In the real world, Owen abruptly jumped to his right. “Ngh—what?” he said. His body had moved on its own, as if he’d sensed something. He looked at where he once was; the rocks were severely warped into oblong shapes by a strange force. He stared ahead and saw Nevren, who was staring back with a blank, emotionless expression.

“A-Alakazam Nevr—”

Nevren’s eyes glowed bright, and Owen knew to dodge again. The rocks behind him twisted in the same way.

“What’re you doing?!”

The rocks kept twisting around him; he had to keep moving. Nevren held his arm forward; electricity crackled from his spoon. He fired directly at Owen—this time, it was too fast. Owen felt a horrible pain rush through his body; his legs refused to listen to any command. And then, he felt another pain—a twisting, indirect, dull, but incredible sensation of pressure across his entire body, like a giant hand twisting him into a spiral.

Owen screamed and shook. He could move again. He fell on his knees, coughing; everything hurt. Everything felt broken. He tried to take a breath, but something there wasn’t working, too.

Nevren stared at Owen. His eyes glowed.

He was going to kill him. Right here, Nevren was trying to kill him. That could be the only explanation. Owen’s mind switched immediately to survival, as if he was fighting a hostile outlaw, but there wasn’t much he could do. His body was already broken. He didn’t have time to reach into his bag for any assistance. Was this it? Why? Nevren, what was he doing?

Confusion washed into fear—and then—just as quickly, it washed into something primal. A roar of madness echoed in Owen’s mind.

A burning flame in Owen’s chest seared his insides; his vision felt _red_. The pain vanished. His body moved. It broke more from it, but without pain to stop him, he kept moving.

He dodged the Psychic attack and rushed at Nevren. He jumped—the little Charmander was now at Nevren’s height in the air, in for a full collision. He opened his mouth; his fangs were red-hot, and he was in a direct course for Nevren’s neck, but he weaved to the right. Owen spun his head and blasted his face with fire. Nevren grunted, and Owen landed. Some part of his foot broke, but it didn’t matter. He spun and flung himself straight toward Nevren again.

Nevren couldn’t dodge this one. Owen wrapped his arms around Nevren, getting as strong a hold as he could; in a split-second, his teeth sank into Nevren’s neck. Owen didn’t hold back. His jaw clenched as hard as it could, until his jaws met—

“Ng—uff—!” Owen opened his eyes with a jolt.

Owen was on the ground, legs crossed. He was in the right side of the room. Nevren was still sitting where he had been when he started meditating. The only sound was the wind whistling. The rocks in the alcove were normal and untwisted. His body felt just fine. Relaxed, even, like it usually did after a meditation session.

“Hm?” Nevren asked. “Is something the matter? You weren’t meditating for long.”

“I… I…” Owen rubbed his head. “I think the altitude is getting to me, Nevren. I don’t think I can meditate here. I’m used to doing it underground, y’know?”

“Ah,” Nevren said. “I see. Well, there’s no use in trying further if the environment isn’t ideal. Why don’t we simply advance through the Dungeon normally?”

“Yeah.”

 

It was easy. The Dungeon was filled with small Rock Pokémon like Geodude and Shieldon, yes, but Owen wasn’t afraid of them. He could tell that they were weak. Unlike the Aerodactyl, which was hard to get close to, Owen could easily approach these slow-moving wilds and dispatch them with a single swipe of hardened claws. This Dungeon was in a rough area in terms of its environment, but the Pokémon themselves were less than formidable. For that, he was thankful—as the wind was still relentless. Nevren had a barrier up ahead of them to ward off most of the atmospheric onslaught.

The cave itself had the same general layout that Dungeons were known for. Corridors connected small rooms, this time made from the black rocks that had been carved by the cold winds. Within the cave, small pieces of sediment constantly chipped off of the walls, forcing Owen to walk with his eyes partially shut for fear of getting bits of mountain dust in them. Despite the barrier, Owen’s body shivered at every step. It was like walking on frost, yet the dry winds from the south didn’t allow for much ice to form.

But other thoughts distracted Owen from most of the harsh elements of the cave. He dwelled on the strange dream he had. After his last experience with dreams, he was growing paranoid at what was real and what was a trick of the mind’s faults.

“N-Nevren?” Owen asked, nearing the final segment of the Dungeon. “When you meditate, do you get weird dreams?”

“Hm? No, not that I’m aware,” Nevren said. “Is that what happened? You seem quite shaken.”

“Yeah,” Owen said, deciding not to comment that his current shaking was due to the cold. “At first it was normal. I was just fighting in a big, black room, kinda. I mean, not a room, since there weren’t any walls, but that’s how it usually goes. But then, suddenly I felt like,” Owen hesitated, “you were gonna attack me. And you were! I mean, in my dream. And then… and then I think I went crazy. I started to see red, and I stopped feeling pain from all your super strong attacks, um, and then,” another pause, “I don’t think I remember what happened after that.”

“Hmm,” Nevren said. “That’s a very vivid dream.”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “I think I shouldn’t try to do that on high mountains. O-or cold ones.”

“Well, regardless of that,” Nevren said, “I’m quite confident in your abilities. I will be giving you a very positive review to James regarding your performance. I can almost guarantee your acceptance into the Association.”

“W-wait—really?!” Owen asked. A sneaky Geodude threw a rock at Owen, hitting him in the back. Between Nevren’s barrier and how weak the Pokémon here were, he didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. Seeing this, the Geodude skittered away.

“Of course!” Nevren said. “This is one of the designated testing Dungeons. If a recruit can pass it without assistance, and shows little signs of struggle, then it means you are ready to be part of the first tier of the Association. You may think of yourself as unskilled,” he shook his head, “but in reality, few non-wild Pokémon get this strong or adept at fighting to handle such a task _without_ trouble.”

It made sense to Owen. He didn’t know how long he had been training for this moment. He had taken on more moderately difficult Dungeons in preparation for the exams. “So, I’ve just been training for so long, that my normal is most others’ abnormal?” Owen asked. He carefully stepped over a small crevice; Nevren had barely noticed it, but Owen’s shorter stature made it a conscious effort to avoid falling in.

“Yes, precisely!” Nevren said, chuckling. “You’re quite abnormal indeed, Owen.”

“Aw, shucks!” Owen laughed. A volley of rocks grazed the top of his scaly scalp.

A gutsy Carbink threw a rock at Nevren from behind. A barrier blocked the attack, nullifying it completely.

“These guys are persistent,” Owen said.

“They’re merely territorial,” Nevren said. “Well! Let’s finish this Dungeon. You can wait for the promotion announcements in the evening. Perhaps with your friends? Team Alloy? I quite like that name.”

“Totally.” But then, a thought occurred to him. “Abnormal…”

“Hm? What was that, Owen?”

“Uh, Nevren? I think I overheard someone after the Ceremony talking about some kind of… mutant Pokémon being spotted. You said you’d take care of it. What was that?”

“Ahh, that was nothing to be concerned with. Pokémon tend to be a bit jumpy about the wild Pokémon in abnormal places, thinking they’re mutants. Sometimes they just happen to wander. I helped relocate the… creature to its proper place, and all was well.”

“Oh! That’s kinda cool. So, are those missions usually reserved for Elites?”

“Actually, Rhys and I reserve those sightings for ourselves, as we’re specifically trained with ‘abnormal Pokémon relocation,’ so to speak.”

“Oh, wow! That’s so cool!” Owen said. Still, it was odd that there were strange Pokémon to begin with. Where did they come from?

“In any case,” Nevren said, pointing at the final distortion of light, “let us return home.”

 

After completing the Dungeon and parting ways with Nevren, he spotted Gahi returning from his squad of potential recruits near the Heart headquarters. Owen ran over. “Gahi! How’d it go?”

“Went fine. Gonna go an’ give my report ter James first, and I’ll be right back, eh?”

“Sure.”

Fast as always, it didn’t take long for the Trapinch to head back out.

“So,” Owen said, “how’d those recruits do? The ones you handled?”

“Feh, they ain’t ready,” Gahi said. He clicked his jaws. “Figure yeh passed, though?”

“Nevren said that he was gonna give me a review brighter than my tail, so I hope so!”

“Heh,” Gahi said. “Well ain’t that somethin’. Maybe we can form a team o’ four, go exploring. Three’s a good number that most recommend, but eh, four ain’t beyond us and what a Badge can handle, even if we gotta rescue a few folks along the way.”

Owen nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But I don’t think I’m gonna go to that Dungeon again. I tried to meditate there, and I think I got a low-air dream or something, because…” Owen trailed off. His attention was caught by a passing conversation.

“ . . . Strange, isn’t it?”

“Creepy, more like!”

“They should’ve investigated.”

“No way! That wasn’t part of the mission!”

Owen cleared his throat. “Um—what was creepy?” he asked.

“Y’didn’t hear?” Gahi asked.

“What?” Owen asked.

“One o’ the teams that went out headed ter Calm Water Lake,” he said. “Around the third section, there was an eerie glow comin’ out from the walls. A recruit got lost on the path, took a wrong turn.”

“A weird glow?” Owen asked. “Was the group the one with Rhys?”

Gahi shook his head. “Nope. Rhys handled some other team. They’re gonna send someone in ter investigate. Pro’ly gonna see the mission go up soon.” Gahi glanced at Owen. “Wanna go?”

Owen thought about the description again and couldn’t help but link it with the strange glowing of Rhys’ room. Was it the same sort of glow? That orb? But Rhys didn’t go with them, so it couldn’t be from _his_ weird, green orb. But there was a cold pit in his stomach when he thought about it. That must have been the thought of going to a watery Dungeon. Still, his curiosity trumped his Type, and he agreed.

“Sure,” Owen said. “But we have to be back before sunset! Let’s get Demitri and Mispy.”           


	6. Mystic Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After investigating Calm Water Lake and the odd creatures within, Owen and the trio leave for the official ceremony to promote Owen into the Thousand Hearts Society. Afterward, Rhys insists on Owen spending the night with him and the trio, and a strange encounter with a small, floating Espurr disrupts Owen's sleep. More questions arise with no answers.

Watery Dungeons simultaneously fascinated and unnerved Owen. Due to his nature, they would be perhaps the last sort of Dungeon that he’d want to explore. Not only would getting his tail doused be perhaps the most excruciating pain imaginable—aside from being impaled—the terrain also made his Fire Traps useless. Calm Water Lake was no exception.

The lake—a clear, blue expanse surrounded by yellow-green grass—disappeared the moment they passed through the distortion. It was replaced by blue, rocky walls made from amalgamated sand, rough and perpetually damp to the touch. The ground was covered in a thin layer of water that went just past Owen’s tiny ankles. This was a challenge for Gahi, who was even lower to the ground. His massive, orange head was constantly tilted upward to prevent his lower jaw from dipping underwater.

“Calm Water Lake is kinda boring,” Owen said. He had his hands behind his head, staring at the wispy clouds. Despite how much he didn’t like the Dungeon itself, it was still better than the cave before. “Hey, do we have any warps left?”

“I do,” Demitri said. “Mispy used her Badge to get our group back, but mine still has a warp left for the day. Once we’re done exploring this Dungeon, we’ll head right back to Kilo.”

“Yeah. I hope it goes by soon,” Owen said. “I’m sick of walking through water. Nothing’s happening.” He had been hoping to find mysterious, pink mist to lead the way. Nothing of the sort was around.

“I mean, it’s called _Calm Water Lake_ ,” Demitri said. “Isn’t that kinda what you’d expect? Even its title is boring.”

“All of the wild Pokémon are asleep,” Owen said, “and they won’t even bother with you unless you aggravate them first. Where’s the fun in that?” Owen blinked. That was an odd comment from himself. Was he getting antsy again? Did he skip his meditation this morning? The one in Eternal Whistler didn’t count. Not after that dream.

“I know what y’mean,” Gahi said. “I don’t wanna go ter this place either, ‘cause the wilds’re all weak.”

“All this teaching hasn’t given me a good fight the whole day,” Demitri said.

Mispy sighed deeply. Her leaf bobbed and brushed against Demitri’s tusk.

“You guys like to battle a bunch, too, huh?” Owen said. Such an attitude was incredibly rare among bystander and civilian Pokémon. There was no need to fight, usually. Some Pokémon go their entire lives not evolving simply because their auras never became efficient enough to trigger it. That was just another layer of kinship he felt with these three. Fellow battle-hearts!

“I know what that’s like,” Owen continued. “If I don’t get a good fight in for the day, I can’t sleep at night. I’m all restless! And I need to fight something! My parents gave me a rock that I can beat up if I ever get like that. But if that isn’t enough, I need to meditate and stuff.”

“Baah,” Gahi shook his head. “Don’t even say the word. I hate when Rhys makes us do that.”

“It calms the mind, though,” Demitri said. “And we _know_ it makes our attacks more efficient, so it isn’t all bad!”

“Tune the aura,” Mispy said.

“Ha, it’s like we get the same lectures!” Owen said. “I wonder if my parents and Rhys went to the same classes.”

“Feh, wouldn’t doubt it,” Gahi said. “Say, how come we never saw yer parents, anyway? Figure they’d’ve supported you fer th’ Ceremony, at least.”

“I think they’re busy at home,” Owen said. “My parents have been really hesitant about going out lately. I’m not really sure why. I hope they aren’t afraid of the light or something.”

An entire segment of the Dungeon passed in complete silence. It didn’t feel awkward to Owen. In fact, it was serene. For perhaps the first time all day, his heart was at ease, traveling with these three like old friends. Without realizing it, a dumb, subtle smile grew on Owen’s face.

“Y’know, that thing y’mentioned,” Gahi suddenly said. “About us seeming familiar? I’m starting ter feel it, too.”

“Huh?” Owen asked.

“Yeah,” Demitri said, tapping his claws on his scales, “I’m with Gahi, for once.”

“Mm,” Mispy nodded.

Owen stared. “Yeah… it’s weird. But, I don’t know why, either. You guys?”

They all shook their head.

Owen shrugged. “I decided that I should just stop dwelling on it. Maybe we’ll figure it out later. Oh, right. Are we at…?” He pulled the mission statement from his bag, and then at his surroundings. They said section three.

“This way,” Mispy said, suddenly turning. She walked with purpose, but it didn’t appear to be in a particularly interesting direction.

“How come?” Owen asked, running after her.

“Mispy can see auras, too, just like Rhys,” Gahi said. “That’s why she thinks ghosts are everywhere. I think her senses are just outta whack.”

Mispy puffed her cheeks; a vine threatened to bludgeon Gahi, but she restrained herself.

“A Chikorita? How?” Owen asked. “Does she secretly have aura sensors, too?”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s in her leaf,” Demitri said. “It’s pretty cool. I don’t know how it works. But it’s helped us a lot when we have to chase down clever outlaws. And now, uh, Mispy? What d’you see?”

“Weird,” Mispy mumbled.

“She sees a weird aura,” Demitri translated. “I guess it’s a good lead for—oh. Uh, Mispy? I don’t think we need an aura sensor for the rest of this.”

There was a wall ahead, to their right, that looked like it was easy to break. A dim light shined from the inside, going through the tiny cracks that made this part of the wall more obvious.

Owen nodded, readying his claws.

“I can do this,” Demitri said to the others.

The Axew backed up and steeled himself, tensing his muscles. He ran forward, slamming his head on the wall; it easily collapsed, falling around him.

“D-Demitri!” Owen said.

“I’m okay!” Demitri called back, climbing out of the rocks; he had a few scratches—as well as a bad wound on his head—but he was conscious.

“Don’t do that!” Owen said; Mispy was already healing him with waves of light. “Next time, let me do it! Metal Claw would’ve done the same thing.”

“Feh, he’s an idiot,” Gahi said.

They all looked inside. The walls of the cavern beyond the false wall glowed dimly; it reminded Owen of the mushrooms in Hotspot Cave. And, of course, the orb that Rhys possessed. He took the lead, and the rest followed. The passageway was only a few paces wide—and those were tiny paces, considering the size of their bodies. Every sound echoed endlessly.

Not more than twenty paces in, Gahi remarked, “This place is giving me the creeps. Think there’re Ghost Types wandering around?”

“I don’t think so, but this weird glow is what I’m kinda worried about,” Demitri said. “It’s the same as the glow in Rhys’ place, y’know, that weird orb?”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “You mean that thing he brought with him to the ceremony, right?”

“Yeah, that one,” Demitri said. “Think it’s related?”

“Maybe,” Owen said, “but a lot of things glow. There are these mushrooms in my home, um, I can’t say where, but at my home, they glow kinda like this. So, it could just be, like, moss, or a tiny fungus or mold that grows on the rocks.” Owen wanted to believe it was actually related, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. The past few days have been filled with confusing disappointments.

_Go back… go back!_

_Turn away… leave!_

All four explorers stopped walking. Demitri’s knees knocked against one another. Gahi churred a rapid, growling noise. The little buds on Mispy’s neck started to glow.

Mispy closed her eyes. “I see… something.”

Owen noticed a pulsing light in the bottom corner of his eye. It came from his bag. “Uh, why is my Badge blinking?” he asked.

“What?” Demitri said. He checked his; it, too, was blinking. “Oh, that’s… that means we just completed a Dungeon,” he said.

“What?” Owen asked.

“We aren’t in a Dungeon anymore,” Demitri said. “This cave ahead of us isn’t part of Calm Water Lake’s Dungeon. Which means,” he glanced around uneasily, “if we get hurt here, or worse, we won’t be warped out. They might just keep attacking us, or…!”

Owen gulped. “M-maybe we should go back.”

“What, and miss a real fight?” Gahi asked, stomping his tiny foot on the ground. “Let’s feel it out!”

“I _do_ want a fight,” Demitri mumbled, unconsciously sharpening his left tusk with his claws. “But this could be dangerous.”

“Mmn.” Mispy seemed unsure, but she advanced. The others followed her lead.

_Leave, leave!_

_Or become one of us!_

Demitri let out a squeaking noise that defied his Dragon pride. Mispy had to prod him on the back to keep him walking.

“Okay, enough whispering!” Gahi said. “Just show yerself and get it over with!”

Surprisingly, they complied. Ahead of them, right where the glowing cave had a turn to the right, a creature rose from the ground. Houndour. But the colors were a bit odd—instead of the usual orange-red on black, it was _ocean-blue_ on black.

“Heh, Houndour, eh?” Gahi said, wobbling forward. “Y’look weird, but I’ll take yeh on!”

Gahi rushed forward, wiggling his head and jaws; mud formed in the back of his throat, ready to fling. The Houndour opened its mouth and fired a concentrated jet of— _water_ directly at Gahi. Surprised by the blast, Gahi jumped out of the way, hitting the wall next to him. While successful in avoiding the water, he sustained a small blow to his side from the rocks. “What’s that supposed ter be?! What kinda game’re you playing?!”

Gahi threw some of his mud at the Houndour; Mispy, whose buds were glowing bright, fired an intense beam of light at the Houndour next.

“W-wait! Mispy!” Demitri said, but it was too late.

The Houndour was completely incinerated; in its place was a small ember that floated in the air. It vaguely resembled Owen’s tail flame, only cyan like Rhys’ aural energy.  It fled into the wall.

“Mispy, that’s too much!” Demitri said. “You just _obliterated_ some poor—”

“It’s a ghost,” Mispy said.

“What?”

Whispers filled the air. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from, or how many were even whispering. Multiple. That’s all they knew.

Three blue-themed Pokémon—even if they weren’t supposed to be blue—rose from the ground. A Nincada, Morelull, and Venipede, rippling like a lake. They all advanced forward, Watery techniques ready. Owen, realizing that there was too much risk involved, with perhaps tens or more others like them ready to close in, shouted to the others, “Let’s go back!”

This time, they agreed. Demitri grabbed their Badge and held it in the air; thankfully, now that they were outside of the strange effects of a Dungeon, they could use it to warp back to Kilo Village. It needed a few seconds to charge. The ghosts fired another set of water jets at them—Owen countered with a plume of fire, hoping to soften the blasts. Mispy shot her vines forward and blocked the rest. That bought them just enough time. In a flash of light, they were gone.

 

They wanted to tell Rhys about what they found before reporting back, but they also realized upon returning that it was close to the evening. Clouds painted the orange canvas with lumpy, purple blotches.

“Oh, Mew, we almost didn’t make it!” Demitri said. “Look! That crowd!”

“Wait, so do we report first, or—”

“No time!” Demitri said. “C’mon, Owen! You go ahead to the front! You’re probably gonna get accepted!”

The ceremony was a rush and then a wait. Owen took the long way around when the immediate path required traversing around a Muk, and instead settled for weaving between the legs of an antsy Rapidash mother waiting for her son’s results. He scrambled between tall and small Pokémon to get to the front, apologizing to each one, until he spotted a Decidueye.

“ _There_ you are,” James said, green-and-brown feathers puffed out. Under his glare, Owen shrank down to nearly three quarters of his height. “I imagine you just became aware of the results. Stand there, please.”

Owen gulped and stood at the front row, to the far right. He leaned forward and counted off the Pokémon to his left. One, two, three… fifteen, and then himself. Sixteen. Sixteen! He made it in!

“Ahem,” James began, “Goodra Anam is currently occupied with… processing the retiring Hearts. In his place, I would like to make official the advancement of these sixteen Provisionary Association Members into the fold of Entry-Level Hearts. To commemorate this, they will relinquish their Provisionary Association Badges, and in return be given their official Thousand Hearts Association Badge. I shall begin from the leftmost member.” James walked away from Owen. His tail lowered slightly at the realization that he was the last to arrive. Talk about a bad first impression.

Owen took the wait as an opportunity to size up the other fifteen members. Nervous shuffling, eyes filled with more ambition than their bodies could handle. They were all weak. He could feel it. What was he doing, taking so long to just _enter_ , if he was already breezing past the easiest Dungeons? Owen refused to accept anything but the idea that it was a mistake—an oversight. “Hmph, well, I’ll show them…” he mumbled.

Each Pokémon gave up their Badge in exchange for an official one, all the way up to Owen. It was right there. The gravity of the ceremony hit him just then. He was going to do it! Become a Heart! And yet, before James could give him the Badge, before he’d truly become a member of this grand, worldwide organization—

“Waaaaaiiiiit!”

All eyes turned to the main building. Anam was running out as fast as he could. Reckless trails of transparent, green slime littered the ground behind him.

“Am I late?!”

“Yes,” James replied. “I have already started the ceremony. There is only one left.”

“Who? I’ll—I’ll do that one!” He sniffled. “I’m sorry, Jam-Jam! I didn’t mean to, but I was just so sad! So many good Hearts!”

James sighed, shaking his head. “Very well,” he said, holding out the final badge. “I can’t be angry at you, Anam. Please, give Owen his Badge.”

“Owen? Yes! Yes! Thanks for saving him for last! U-uhh, I mean—um—thank you,” Anam said. James’ glare was so intense that, for a second, Owen thought Anam’s slime bubbled.

Owen’s heart skipped a beat, and his flame flashed white for an instant. He was about to be given his Badge by Anam himself.

The others in line noticed, too. They all stared at Owen with mixtures of surprise, confusion, and envy. What’s this upstart doing here?

Goodra sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Owen—I mean, Charmander Owen, I give you this Badge in commemoration of your advancement into the Thousand Hearts Association.” He handed Owen the lightweight, golden emblem. It was covered in slime; Owen politely took it and, when Anam turned away, wiped it with the cloth of his bag. He then admired the clean, heart-shaped insignia on the front, using his tail to better see the shining details.

“This concludes the ceremony of advancement,” James said. “You are all dismissed.”

Owen spun around to avoid any of the onlookers. Starstruck as he was, the pressing issue of what they found in the lake returned to the forefront of his mind. After backtracking through the evening crowd, he spotted the silhouette of Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi in the twilight.

“Talk about playing favorites!” Demitri said. “That was crazy!”

“I know, right?!” Owen said, beaming. “Oh! But—where’s Rhys? We should talk to him about what we found first, right? And then we can report it later. Then, I’m gonna go back to my parents’ place and tell them about what happened.” He glanced at the Waypoint lines and saw a Torkoal enter Calm Water Lake. “Uh—"

“There,” Mispy said, pointing her leaf forward. Rhys was walking toward them from the main building.

“Where have you been?” Rhys asked. “The entire ceremony was almost delayed to find Owen.”

“We were doing a last minute mission,” Gahi said. “How ‘bout we talk about it over dinner? I’m starved. Owen’s coming with!”

Owen’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food, and the Torkoal left his mind completely; it was replaced instead with the idea of a fine, hearty stew.

 

Dinner was a savory rice dish. While the food was wonderful, mealtime itself felt tense. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi seemed antsy from not getting a good fight in—and, after getting one, being forced to flee.

“Well, now that you’re here, why don’t you speak about that mission of yours? Did it not go well?” Rhys asked.

“No,” Gahi mumbled. “Hated it. Nearly got killed.”

“K-killed?” Rhys asked.

“We were attacked when we were investigating a weird glowing at Calm Water Lake,” Demitri said. “But that glowing led us outside the Dungeon early, somehow, which is where we got attacked. By a weird… water-typed Houndour, or something.”

Rhys scanned the four of them, as if expecting them to say it was a joke. When none came, he said, “I see.”

Silence accompanied the five while they ate.

“That’s it?” Gahi asked. “Y’usually have something ter say ‘bout us being reckless, or maybe some theory on why it’s like that.”

“H-hm? I do? Well. I don’t this time,” Rhys said. “I’ll speak to Goodra Anam about it tomorrow. Yes, I’ll do that,” he trailed off.

Owen looked at the others expectantly. He wanted to ask about the Orb again, but after that encounter in the lake, he was too jittery to do it alone. He’d stumble over his words. And what was he going to do? Sneak into Rhys’ room and steal it? That’d just make him an outlaw! There was no point. He could ask politely, when there was less tension. He didn’t see that pink cloud this time, anyway.

“Um. Well, if that’s all, when I finish dinner, I think I’ll just head home,” he said. “Thanks, by the way! I-it’s really good.”

“No,” Rhys said. “Just for tonight, I want you to stay here. I will explain to your parents about it later.”

Owen felt even more trapped than when they were in that glowing cave. “Y-you? But I can’t, um, they don’t know,” he said. Owen looked like he was going to stand up. “They’ll freak out if I don’t get home by nighttime, and it’s almost that already! So, um, I just…. I can’t just stay here without telling them.”

“They will understand,” Rhys said.

“Rhys, yer being weird,” Gahi said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s too dangerous to go out,” Rhys said flatly. “The path to your home, Owen, is dangerous tonight. It will be safer tomorrow. Not tonight.”

“B-but—” Owen hesitated. He couldn’t ignore that serious aura Rhys was giving off. Would him leaving, now, be that dangerous? Or was it bad for some other reason? He didn’t sense any _malice_ from Rhys, but to suddenly make such a request…

“This is final,” Rhys said. “I’m sure they will just think you need to do overnight training and orientation.”

Owen looked at Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi, but they were equally confused. Rhys wasn’t explaining anything. But, in the back of his mind, Owen trusted what he was saying. If Rhys said it was dangerous, then it was. “Rhys, um. I’ll stay here. But can you explain why it’s so dangerous?”

Rhys looked at his rice and ate. The others ate, too, in a silence so thick that Owen felt he was eating some of it with each bite.

“We are all going to need to be careful for a time,” Rhys said. “There may be Pokémon in search of objects like the one in my room. Anything that gives off that glow may be a target, and I don’t want to risk anything right now.”

Anything? Owen thought about Hot Spot Cave.

“S-so, Calm Water Lake might have another of those orb things?” Demitri said.

“Possibly. But we can’t do anything about it today,” he said. “We can explore this further tomorrow, after I see Goodra Anam. He may be able to help.”

“Okay,” Owen finally conceded.

“You will stay in Gahi’s room,” Rhys nodded. “Demitri and Mispy share a room. We have an extra bed in storage.”

“Oh! That’s convenient,” Owen said.

“Yeah, I kinda always wondered why we had that,” Gahi said. “Ain’t like we get guests.”

Owen finished his meal; despite the tension, he was satisfied with even the leftover grains of rice and veggies. “Aah, that was good,” he said. “I, er, I guess I’ll get familiar with—oh! I don’t think I can sleep in your bed, though.” Owen tittered. “See, my tail-flame kinda burns most beds.”

“There’s no need to worry,” Rhys said. “They’re made from Rawst leaves, so they are flame-resistant.”

“Oh! Oh, wow!” Owen nodded. “That’s kinda… _really_ convenient, but I guess I’ll take it!” He fiddled with his claws. At this point, he was sick of inquiring.

Rhys set up the spare bed; Gahi led the way down the hall, past the first pair of rooms, and into the left of the second set.

“Here’s m’place,” Gahi said.

It didn’t look different from the others; a simple, rocky room with two beds in the middle. One seemed quite sandy, ideal for Gahi’s species, like a pit in the ground. The new bed was a soft set of Rawst leaves; Owen gently ran his hand across the pile. They were just like the ones at home. This wouldn’t be bad at all!

He happily hopped on his bed and looked at Gahi. “I hope my tail doesn’t bother you at night,” he said.

“Nah,” Gahi said. “I don’t think I’ll notice.” He shook his entire body, vibrating into the sandy pit, and he was gone.

“Oh.” Owen wasn’t sure what he had expected.

Every so often, Owen heard the muffled clicks of Gahi’s massive jaws. Owen sighed, closing his eyes. Something about that sound relaxed him, but it also kept him up for a while longer than he was used to. Every so often, Gahi’s sleep-churring startled him awake.

 

Owen was half asleep, somewhere between dream and reality. Something ethereal reached out.

_Owen. Owen? Owen! Hello?!_

_That’s a pretty voice…_

_Owen! Wake up!_

_Five more blinks…_

_Ugh, stupid, flaming scale-bag—wake up! HURRY!_

Owen thought he was dreaming, but it felt too real, and too normal. Too groggy. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, squinting outside their room. Something was glowing. That same, strange glow. But it wasn’t like that last time. The old glow was softer and constant. This one was wider; it spilled almost into Gahi’s room. Owen blinked again; the light was getting brighter. Owen hid his tail under the leaves to make sure it wasn’t him. Without the flame, it was clear as day—that light was _moving_. Was it the cloud again?

_So, this is my night, huh?_ Owen thought.

The blur from his eyes completely gone, he spotted something in the corner of his eye. He immediately turned, his heart skipping a beat. The mist. It was right there, like a trick of the eye—just _barely_ visible. Owen thought it was just a splotch on his pupil. It didn’t say anything, but it was very anxiously moving toward the hall, then back to Owen, and then back to the hall again.

_Why me?_ Owen thought. He slowly got out of bed and wrapped some leaves around his flame. Still holding his tail, he stepped outside. The source of the light was a Pokémon floating in the air. A small one—an Espurr. Floating. High in the air.

She didn’t notice Owen; she was facing into Rhys’ room, moving inside.

Trespasser!

“Um—hey!” Against common sense, Owen shouted. “S-stop!”

His legs moved on their own until he was at the entrance to Rhys’ home. There, he saw the Espurr going toward the orb—she was about to touch it. “Y-you aren’t supposed to—!” He saw that Rhys was still asleep. The pink mist followed. It pushed futilely against the Espurr, defending the orb to no effect.

The Espurr turned around and stared at Owen. They locked eyes—Owen couldn’t get a read for her expression, but she didn’t maintain eye contact for long. He only knew that her eyes shined more than anything else. Owen felt the atmosphere around him change—he recognized this feeling. It was an incoming Psychic attack, just like Nevren. He jumped out of the way just in time to evade the twisting energy. It didn’t feel particularly strong.

The Espurr readied another strike, but a ball of bright, blue energy hit her on the side instead. She yelped and fumbled in the air. Rhys was awake, sitting up in his bed of leaves; he stared directly at the Espurr, who squeaked even louder at the glare. And then, she vanished in thin air—as if she wasn’t there to begin with.

“Wh-what… what?” Owen breathed.

Rhys stood up. The silence that followed—with Rhys staring at the pink mist, and then at Owen, and then at the orb—was long enough for Owen to absorb what had just happened. Some Espurr with the same sort of glow as the orb tried to steal it, or something.

 “You should get to sleep, Owen,” Rhys said.

“Wait, but what—”

“Sleep.” Rhys held his right paw in Owen’s direction. It glowed an eerie white. Rhys fired, and Owen felt a hot buzz course through him. His vision concentrated into a tunnel, and then faded to black. Owen’s consciousness quickly followed.

_So. You’re asleep again._

_Hello, pretty voice…_

_Owen. Listen. This is super, ultra important. The orb. Touch. ASAP._

_But, Rhys said…_

_And sometimes, Rhys is an idiot. We’re running out of options and time. Just touch it, okay?_

_I’m so tired…_

_S-stay with me, Owen. There are lots of bad ‘mon out there trying to get those things, and the more we ha—_

The rest was lost.


	7. The Orb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and the trio do the one thing that Rhys told them not to do; Rhys confronts Anam and James about his enigmatic grievances.

“Ugh, what a weird dream,” Owen mumbled. He rubbed his eyes; he still ached. He must have jumped improperly to avoid that Psychic attack and bruised himself. Wait. If he ached, then that wasn’t a dream, was it? “Not crazy. Not crazy. Not crazy,” Owen chanted in a whisper.

“Eh?” Gahi said, peeking out from his sand pit. “What’re yeh mumblin’?”

“N-nothing,” Owen said. “I think I just had a weird dream. That’s all.”

“Well, have ‘em some other night,” Gahi said. The Trapinch clicked his jaws. “…I don’t smell breakfast,” he said.

“Does Rhys usually make it?”

“Yeah,” Gahi said. “Unless he made something cold that doesn’t smell. Usually if we’re running behind er something…”

The kitchen had food on the table—a simple fruit salad—and a note from Rhys saying that he left to speak with Anam, and to stay at home until he returned. “That glowing stuff must be real urgent…”

“Wait!” Owen said. “That’s right! There was an Espurr that was trying to take the orb last night! I remember!”

“Eh?”

“What’s going on?” Demitri said. “Are you talking about last night? I think I had a dream of Rhys whisper-yelling. He sounded really angry.”

Owen nodded. “Last night, while you guys were asleep, I think I woke up and saw a weird Pokémon enter Rhys’ room. She tried to, like, get the glowing orb while Rhys was asleep!”

“Did she?”

“No, but she nearly twisted me to shreds with a crazy-strong Psychic attack. I think it was even stronger than Nevren’s!”

“How d’you know how strong Nevren’s is?” Gahi said.

“Oh, um—” Owen rubbed the back of his head. “Well, it was really strong in my dream….”

“Wait, back up,” Demitri said. “An Espurr? That isn’t even fully evolved. Why is it so strong?”

“The weird thing about that,” Owen said, “is that she kinda glowed, too. The same way the orb did, and the cave did.” _And the mushrooms did…._

A sudden silence filled the kitchen. Realization washed over them.

“He left the orb alone!” Owen said. “Right? Did he?”

Forgetting about breakfast, the quartet rushed into Rhys’ room. It was the first time that Owen got a good look at it in the sunlight that bled into the shallow cave. There was a simple bed of leaves to the left corner of the room, and a solid stone desk to the right. There was a strange stash of Pecha Berries under the desk. Owen saw a small piece of parchment lodged inside the pile of berries in the shape of a heart. At first, Owen thought it was from Anam and his saccharine taste in themed shapes, but somehow, that didn’t feel correct.

The shelves were lined with artifacts both shiny and dusty. Owen saw a number of strange items on the three shelves that lined the cave’s far wall in a half-circle. Owen only recognized a few of them: an Everstone in the far right, which Owen subconsciously inched away from; something that looked like a prototype Badge, lumpy and bronze; something that looked like one of Nevren’s zany inventions, some metallic bracelet; and what looked like an old, faded edition of the Book of Mew.

The final item gave Owen pause. “Huh. Didn’t peg Rhys as a Mew sort of person,” he mumbled under his breath. “Seemed more like the Arceus type.” His eyes continued to trail along the shelves.

And there it was—perhaps he forgot about the orb in his rush to see Anam. For whatever reason, the orb was there, its glow significantly fainter against the morning sun peering through the cave’s entrance.

Owen squinted, suspicious. Rhys wasn’t the sort to be careless. Demitri mentioned an argument, perhaps after he had been put to sleep. Arguing with who? The mist? The _orb itself?_ Maybe Owen wasn’t the only crazy one in the family.

This orb _must_ have been there intentionally. That voice—was it the mist?—told Owen to touch the orb. But should he listen to that mist, or to Rhys?

_And sometimes, Rhys is an idiot_ , Owen recalled. He watched Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi wander the room, looking for a way up. Mispy’s vines were too short to reach on their own, and it was hard to pick someone like her up to begin with. She always did seem heavier, or perhaps denser, than the average Chikorita—though, Owen had a feeling if he said that aloud, he’d face the wrath of her Solarbeam.

“But it’s still so high…” Demitri finally said. Vines wrapped around his abdomen. “N-no way! I can’t do it!” he protested, legs shaking.

“Aw, c’mon, it’s barely that high,” Gahi said.

“I just can’t do it,” Demitri said. He shook his head. “I—I mean, it’s… it’s just too high up!”

Mispy sighed. Even if she tried, her Chikorita-strength vines weren’t quite enough to lift an Axew like Demitri. But, Owen…. Mispy eyed Owen, sizing him up.

“What?” the Charmander asked.

Mispy brought two vines forward, wrapping around him.

“U-uhh—personal space, please?” Owen said.

Mispy lifted Owen up. “Hmm,” she said. “Half your weight.” She glanced at Demitri. She had a much easier time lifting Owen in the air. This just might work. He was even lighter than Gahi—and easier to hold, too.

“Well, ain’t that something,” Gahi said. “Owen, you were the piece we needed, eh? Okay. Let’s go and lift ‘im up!”

Mispy nodded, but then nodded at Demitri. He went up to the wall and held his tiny arms against it; Gahi got behind Mispy and pushed his head beneath her. Using Gahi’s front as a platform, she climbed onto Demitri’s back, awkwardly maneuvering until her chest wrapped around his head.

“W-w-wait!” Owen said. “Wait! What are we doing? M-move slower!” Was this it? He didn’t expect his wish to touch the sphere would be granted in this way. He had been mapping the room in his head, looking for shelves to hop and Rhys’ various knickknacks and books to use as footholds. Owen normally wouldn’t disrespect a book by using it as a stepping stone, but perhaps this time would have been a necessary evil.

“We’re gonna grab that orb and take a look at it!” Gahi said.

“O-oh, okay. But—but it wasn’t my idea, okay?! I need to make a good first impression with Rhys, and I don’t want him thinking I’m some—some delinquent!”

“With a vocabulary like that, I ain’t gonna feel too worried ‘bout that,” Gahi said.

“And with a vocabulary like _yours_ ,” Demitri said, “Rhys will probably think it was your idea.”

Owen was at eye-level with the orb. Up close, it seemed bigger—he wouldn’t be able to hold it with just one of his tiny hands. He’d need to grab it by both sides; it was almost half the size of his head. He saw little, flowing lights swirling inside the pale, green sphere. “Just a little further, Mispy!” Owen said. “I can totally get it!”

Mispy obliged, straining her vines. “Almost?!” she said. She adjusted her vines lower to push him just a bit higher.

“N-not too low, Mispy!” Owen squeaked.

“S-sorry!”

“Almost… got it…!” Owen took a break to let Mispy drift him closer, relaxing his arms. Then, he reached out one last time, feeling that Mispy was at her limit. He knew it, now—he could grab the orb! Owen reached out. “Okay, I—” Contact.

The Charmander went completely limp; his arms fell forward, the orb still in his hands. Mispy stumbled forward from the dead weight.

“O-Owen? Is it heavy?” Demitri asked, unable to look up.

The flame on Owen’s tail went out.

 

“Hrrmmnnn, what a mess,” Rhys muttered, walking through town in a brisk pace. His bag hung around his shoulder, the bottom bumping against the spike on his chest. He glanced down inside; he had a few items, along with a cloth wrapped around a large sphere, glowing faintly. He scanned the immediate area. Business as usual for most of the Hearts. Missions, missions, and more missions. He spotted an Aerodactyl grumbling while posting mission statements on the bulletin board.

“Ahh, Rhys!” Nevren called.

The fur on Rhys’ body bristled. He walked without acknowledging the Alakazam.

“Now, Rhys, that’s no way to greet me,” Nevren said. “What are you doing here? You don’t often come to Kilo Village unless there is a ceremony.” He looked at the bag. “…It’s not exactly a good idea,” he said, “to be carrying that around right now, don’t you think?”

“I will take my chances,” Rhys said.

“Are you sure?” Nevren said. “Rim might try to take it from you in broad daylight. Do not think a crowd will discourage her. The Hunters have been getting antsy lately.”

“And what will she do if she sees me? Glare angrily at my feet?” he huffed.

“Now, Rhys, that was uncalled for,” Nevren said.

Rhys clutched at the bag. “…She entered our home yesterday.”

“Ah.”

“I do not want her to endanger my students,” he said. “I would rather take it with me while speaking with Anam.”

“Hrm.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Rhys said.

Nevren watched Rhys walk. “Has Elder talked with you,” he said, “about any of this?”

Rhys hesitated, looking down at his bag. “We talk.”

Silence.

Rhys continued into the building; Nevren did not follow.

The entryway, past the main, heart-shaped exterior, was a building of stone and wood, painted in various shades of pink, red, and purple. Pathways on the ground were painted in a dark violet to indicate which way to go; the walls were a soft, invigorating red, with white stripes separating the red from the purple and other colors. The ceiling was pink, and the upper half of the walls shared the same color. They were all solid colors with no real pattern, except for some floral designs lining where the colors changed.

The color scheme disgusted Rhys, but he didn’t have the heart to berate Anam for his taste in décor.

To Rhys’ left was a stairway into the in-house dorms, where Pokémon that preferred to live directly inside of Kilo Village slept. To the right was where official business took place, such as meetings, private assemblies, and administrative work. Rhys entered the right stairway. There were very few Pokémon in the Heart during this time of day. The morning missions were all taken, and the afternoon missions hadn’t been processed yet. He figured that Aerodactyl would be the one to post them, once they were ready.

It was dark in the hall, and then brighter at the exit. The colors were the same, and Rhys generally didn’t care for Anam’s style. But he was the boss. The Lucario sighed to himself, fidgeting with his bag.

A Decidueye emerged from the floor in a black mist—not a normal entrance for his kind, but something that the Lucario was accustomed to, specifically for the second-in-command. “Rhys,” James said. “Is this about the recent sighting?”

“Calm Water Lake? Somewhat,” Rhys said. “Where is Anam?”

“He is in his quarters,” James said. “I will see you there.” He sank into the ground again.

Goodra Anam’s quarters was at the very edge of the building, at the back and center of the Heart. He was staring at a large map of the world on the front wall, above the entryway. Due to Anam’s size, it wasn’t easy to see the rest of his room. However, the gentle, strange, _sweet_ smell associated with the Goodra permeated the atmosphere. It was like he bathed in Pecha juice.

“Oh, hi, Rhys!” Anam said, waving. “I was just looking at the map.”

Rhys entered and turned around, looking with him. The map was ancient and hand-drawn. Much better copies existed of the world, but this was Anam’s personal copy. The original copy, apparently, complete with dried slime and illegible scribbles in the empty spaces. Kilo Village, and by extension Kilo Mountain, was at the center of this map, displaying a largely circular country in the middle of an ocean on all sides.

“…Calm Water Lake,” Rhys said, pointing to the northeastern river that fed into the reservoir. “We always suspected an orb would be hidden there. But we didn’t find one, last we checked.”

“We assumed it was a false lead,” James said. “Previous signs lasted only for a short while, after all. But it happened again, and this time we have actual witnesses to prove it.”

“Not good.” Rhys sighed. “They might be taken by the Hunters…. But, perhaps we should also investigate.”

“There were sightings of a Torkoal entering the lake,” James said. “I assume you know him, Rhys?”

Rhys looked away from the map and toward the ground. “Yes, I’m sure that Elder attempted to speak with whoever held the orb. Anam… I actually wanted to tell you about some extra information.” He paused to make sure he had their attention. “It’s very likely that it is the Water Orb—my students explored it, unannounced.”

“W-wait, your students?” Anam said. “You mean… all four of them… together? Wouldn’t that spook the Guardian?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “They are fine. Owen is, too. The Water Guardian may not have realized it, thanks to their current state.”

James’ feathers puffed out considerably. “Those four are not supposed to be together, _ever_ , Rhys.”

“I _understand_ ,” Rhys said, “but a… series of circumstances caused them to be together, recently. But that will be the end of it. Once I get home,” he sighed, “I will… set things right. Owen will return home. The rest of Team Alloy will forget him again. He will train and meditate, and… things will remain as they have always been.” He trailed off.

“…You’re lying,” Anam said, nibbling on his slimy fingers. The feelers on his head twitched uncomfortably.

“Ngh,” Rhys’ head went lower. “Anam, _don’t_ start using your Empath power on me. I get enough of that from Owen’s Awareness.”

“S-sorry,” Anam said, looking down. “But… it was just so obvious.”

“We can’t allow this,” James said. “I understand your feelings on the matter, Rhys. But it’s still too dangerous. Perhaps later. But not now.”

“It has been that way for quite a while, hasn’t it? Perhaps later. Perhaps later….” Rhys asked, smiling bitterly at James. “That is all I wanted to say. Thank you, Anam. Be careful.”

“Rhys…” Anam sniffed. “I… I don’t want you to be upset!” He wiped gooey tears from his face. “Can I do anything to help?!”

Rhys closed his eyes. “Anam,” he said. “A long time ago, you told me that you saw great potential in the bond that my students shared. That if they could train their spirits to overcome their… weaknesses… they could perhaps tip this teetering scale in our favor. But to you, Anam,” he said, turning around, “what _is_ that favor? What then, if we win?”

“F-favor…?” Anam said.

Rhys crossed his arms. “How do you plan to use my students, Anam?”

“I… I just, um…” Anam hesitated. “I don’t know. But together, they’re really, really strong.”

“I see,” Rhys said. His eyes were closed again. “Anam.” He stared at Anam, right in his glistening, green eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that you don’t know what to do with that power. But the world will not wait for your decision. And neither will they.”

“What?” Anam asked. “What’s that mean? Rhys…?”

The Elite Heart said nothing else and turned to exit. James, glaring from behind, assured Anam that Rhys was merely upset at his circumstances, and he just had to blow off some steam. While this was normally true, James was worried at how affected Anam was, this time.

“Anam,” James said, “is he not always like this, when he has that tone?”

Anam gulped, but then shook his head. “This time… he feels different.” The feeler-horns behind his head twitched. “He’s telling the truth… b-but what’s that mean? I dunno… I dunno….”

 

The walk back was a quiet one. Rhys heard wild Pidgey singing in the trees. Rattata scampered in the bushes. Auras were wild or calm, rushing or resting. They were all weak, really. Wild Pokémon in this area weren’t anything to worry about. That was one reason he enjoyed living in the forest to the side of Kilo Village’s outskirts. The auras didn’t overwhelm his senses. It also meant that if a powerful aura was around, he could spot it instantly.

“Hello, Rim,” Rhys said. He stopped walking and lifted his head. To his left was the black, rocky Kilo Mountainside. To the right was the surrounding Kilo Forest, comprised of thin trees with thick, lumpy tops. And ahead and behind him, the thin, grassy field that connected the two.

An Espurr appeared in front of Rhys, ten paces away. She was floating at eye-level to Rhys, but she didn’t look directly at him. She stared at his feet instead.

“H-hello…” she said. Her voice was like a whisper, barely audible over the wind. Rhys had to strain his sensitive ears just to hear her.

“I didn’t appreciate your antics last night,” Rhys said.

“S-sorry…”

“Will you stop, then?”

Rim didn’t reply.

“I see,” Rhys said. “So, it’s begun again. Do not think that I am unprepared, Rim. Send that message to the others, please.”

“The… orb… p-please…” Rim said.

“The orb?” Rhys said, lifting his bag. “You intend to take the orb?”

“P-please….”

 “I will not allow it.”

The wind died down. For five seconds, the atmosphere was without sound. Then, it picked up again. The leaves on bushes rustled; wild Pokémon, sensing the tension, fled. The wind stopped again. Rim’s fur, however, continued to blow, energy swirling around her.

Rhys felt the air twist around him; in a deft movement, he jumped back, dodging Rim’s first Psychic blow. The dirt where he stood warped into an oblong, spiral spike of grass and mud. Rhys countered with a bright ball of concentrated light from his paws, aimed at Rim. It was weakened by an odd, invisible barrier, but still passed through, making the Espurr squeak. She countered with another bout of twisting energy. Rhys dodged it again, but felt the fur at the edge of his tail spiral into a corkscrew.

Rhys fired another Flash Cannon at her, its brilliance scaring off all spectating wild Pokémon. Rim vanished. Rhys cursed and glanced behind him; he felt a powerful presence in front of him instead, but it was too late. The twisting energy surrounded Rhys, and the attack connected. He lost the wind from his chest; his bones were strained. He jumped away, but dropped his bag in the process. “Ngh—”

Rim was readying another wave. Rhys ran in the opposite direction, and then redirected himself. He fired another ball of steely light one last time; Rim dodged, but had to close her eyes against the bright detonation. When she opened them again, he was gone, but the bag remained. Based on the dim glow it emitted, the orb was still inside.

She hastily floated down and pulled the cloth out. The orb fell out of the bag, knocking against the dirt with a dull thud. She smiled in relief and hastily grabbed the orb with both hands.

Nothing happened. Her smile transitioned into a confused frown.

In another second, her big, purple eyes bulged with panic. She pulled her hands away, and then touched it again. Nothing. She touched it yet again. Still, nothing. She whimpered and knocked her claws against the side. It made a hollow _tink_.

It was simply colored glass. The glow inside was just a latent Aura Sphere.

 

“Got it, guys!” Owen said. “Ha ha, that was… what?” The orb wasn’t in his hands anymore.

He was standing in a clearing within a forest quite unlike the one outside Rhys’ home. Sunlight poured through the treetops above, creating dazzling patterns on the ground. He could see a large, open field to his right, beyond tree trunks wider than he was tall. To his left—and in all other directions, really—was more and more forest. Tanned wood topped with bright green. There was no mountain and no nearby cave; Demtiri, Mispy, and Gahi were nowhere to be seen.

“Okay. I’m crazy,” Owen finally conceded, looking at his hands. He was _certain_ that he was holding the orb, or that he at least _grabbed_ it. But then, in an instant, it was gone, and then…. What happened after that? He _did_ feel a bit strange. He had blacked out for _at most_ half a blink. And then, he was here. It still felt like Mispy was holding him, but it was some sort of phantom sensation. He saw no vines wrapped around his abdomen.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.” But then again, he didn’t feel hungry.

Something rustled behind him.

“U-uh—h-h-hello?” Owen asked. The flame on his tail brightened. Fire danced in the back of his throat. His heart was racing with onset panic at being thrown into a completely unfamiliar place.

More rustling behind him again, where he had once been facing—and to his left, and his right, and _above_ him. Eyes everywhere, little dots in the shadows of bushes and branches. He caught sight of one of them. “H-hey!” he said, pointing. “I saw that! C-come out! And—and do it in a… slow and non-threatening way! P-please!”

After a few seconds, a Leafeon emerged. Owen deflated with his sigh.

A few other Pokémon revealed themselves, including a large Jumpluff. Another was a Murkrow—but instead of its iconic, black feathers, it was covered in sharp leaves. Another emerged—this one was a Cubone, holding a solid, wooden stick instead of a bone. Its helmet was made of the same material. The Jumpluff—an actual, normal Pokémon—helped him relax the same way seeing the Leafeon did. If there was anywhere for him to be placed randomly, a place of Grass-Types wasn’t too bad.

“Hey,” Owen said, lowering his guard. “S-sorry. I’m just a little… confused. Um. Where am I?” he said. “I’m sorry if I’m, um, intruding, or anything like that. I think I got here on accident, somehow. I’ll go right home! When… I know where that is.”

The Pokémon all looked at one another. They seemed to understand Owen, and were murmuring to one another. Owen’s breathing steadied. At least they weren’t wild. Another ideal circumstance. He listened in on the words being said, sensing that quite a few of these Pokémon were tense and ready to fight or flee. He gulped. Was he about to become a Carnivine’s lunch? Some Grass cult’s sacrifice? Even if he had an advantage, he didn’t think he’d be able to take on _all_ of them. It would be the most humiliating way to die, really—a Charmander, eaten by a bunch of Grass-Types.

The mumbling slowly subsided; more and more of their eyes focused on something behind Owen. The Charmander almost didn’t want to look back. He could feel it. A presence—a powerful, incredible, radiant presence. Perhaps it was the cult’s leader, ready to cook him up. Charmander stew! With only the finest herbs and berries. It cooked itself.

He couldn’t move; his flame burned brighter, ready to run and torch anything that stopped him.

“Yo,” said a feminine, yet casual voice. “Took you long enough.”

By some miracle, Owen heard this voice over the blood pounding in his head. This voice sounded familiar. Recent. Wait! It was the pretty voice!

He spun around.

His jaw nearly detached from the rest of his head. “M-M-M… Muh—Muh—”

“Nice to meet you in spirit, Owen,” the Mew said, smiling wryly. “How’s life?”


	8. Not Quite Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen gets to know a few ancient spirits, and later accepts a great power--not that he had much of a choice--due to disobeying Rhys. After changing his life forever, he wakes up to a great makeover.

“You’re… you’re Mew,” Owen said. “Mew!”

“Yep!”

“And—and you’re… you’re talking to me. You know my name.”

“Uh-huh!”

Owen’s throat sealed itself. He swallowed, but it didn’t help. It was like his face was stuffed with Oran Berries. “You… y-you… you, you… you…”

“Aww, you’re shy! I like the shy types,” she said, winking.

Owen knew that if he wasn’t in this strange place, he would’ve passed out by now. Instead, he stared in shock. It took a full ten seconds for him to return to his senses. “Mew! Why are you looking at—at me? No, wait, I mean—talking to me? I’m—Did you want to see Rhys, instead? He’s way more important!”

The Mew giggled. “Oh, call me Star. My name’s Mew Star.”

“S-S-Star? Y-you—! But you’re important! A-aren’t you supposed to not have a name aside from your species?”

“What, just because I’m Mew means I can’t have a name to go along with it? C’mon, that’s no fun.” Star puffed her cheeks. “What happens if I run into a lesser Mew? Then we’ll be all kinds of confused! My name is Star, got it? Besides, it’d be confusing if I did this, right?” Suddenly, Star’s body shifted and twisted, starting from a mesh of pink into orange, and she fell to the ground on her feet—a Charmander.

She gave a little bow. “Eh? Eh?” she asked, giving him a little spin.

“Wh—uh—that—” Owen gulped. “D-don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Star asked, flicking her tail.

“ _That_. Please—stop.”

Star eyed Owen, as if getting a read for him, but then shrugged. “Fine,” she said, and she melted back to her floating, Mew self.

Owen felt the heat slowly leave his face. “Okay. Okay, that’s better. It’s n-nice to meet you, um, Star. I’m—I’m Charmander Owen! And—”

“Oh, please, I already know all about you,” Star said. “I’m Mew! Well, not a Mew. _The_ Mew, yeah? I’m pretty high up in the pantheon or whatever.”

“O-oh, so, you’re—”

“Creator of common life, yes,” Star said, nodding. “Pretty nifty, huh? I have a few perks, too. Reading minds, shape-shifting, you know.”

“Th-that’s… But…!”

“So! I hate to be the one to tell you this,” Star said, “but by touching that orb in Rhys’ room, you kinda more or less closed off your fate to three options. Okay? Mind if I tell you those?”

“Wait—the Orb? The Orb? Was I supposed to—I mean, was I really not supposed to touch it?”

“No way, definitely not,” Star said, shaking her head. “I mean, you’re fine, probably, but you probably also shouldn’t have gone against what the old Lucario told you. But hey, that’s karma, right?”

The many spectating Pokémon said nothing. They all listened silently. Owen noticed that none of them were really bowing to Star, or doing anything of that nature. He, too, refrained from kneeling before her. It didn’t feel right, anyway. Not after what she just said. The little connections in his mind clicked together. The pink mist, the voice, and now, this Creator before him telling him that he shouldn’t have done everything that voice told him to do.

“…YOU TOLD ME TO TOUCH IT!”

“Did I?” Star asked innocently, holding her right hand to her cheek, mouth agape. “Oh, no! Maybe it was my evil twin, Rats Wem!”

That earned another long, thoughtful, existential silence from the Charmander. Even his tail dimmed. Owen had no idea the Creator could be so juvenile. His worldview was melting by the second. Entire perspectives shattered. Whole outlooks upturned. He didn’t even think Creator Mew was _real_. Now, not only was she real, but she was some sort of—

“Okay, okay, fine,” Star said, “I’ll admit it. I _may_ have egged you on to touching it, and _maybe_ I convinced Rhys to leave the Orb for you to finally grab. A lot of people didn’t want you to touch that thing. Including Rhys, until this morning, and until—”

“So it _was_ intentional!”

“And,” Star went on, “it’s still something that’s probably a bad idea. But it just happened to be the least bad idea. Kinda like choosing between cutting off your head and cutting off your arm.”

Owen winced. “Okay. Fine. Good. Good to hear. Very good. Just… tell me where I am, first.”

“Huh. Okay, that’s a good transition,” Star said. She floated higher, motioning to the bright forest. Owen followed her arms, and then at where she was pointing. The dazzling patterns still mesmerized him. Now that he had a better look at the branches—which covered the sky like thick Spinarak webs—he spotted a few Grassy Pidgey nesting in the bunches of teardrop-shaped leaves.

“You touched what’s known as the Grass Orb,” Star said. “and this here is the Grass Realm. It’s an offshoot of the spirit world, somewhere between the world of the living and the dead, where Grass Pokémon of times current and old come to socialize and help keep this Orb safe from intruders. Y’know, people like you.”

Owen stiffened. “O-oh, I’m… I’m an intruder?”

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t call you hostile,” Star said, “which is why you’re still standing here. Though, I’ll be honest, I _did_ have to warn some of these guys in advance.”

A shiver ran up Owen’s spine. Some of these Pokémon, even if they were Grass Types, seemed incredibly powerful. He briefly envisioned the Pidgey in the trees all swarming him at once, plucking away at him scale by scale.

“Okay,” Owen said. “So, tell me this. What can I do? What are my options th-that you said I’d have to pick from?”

The Mew nodded. “I’ll start with the option that can get you back home,” she said. “Right now, you’re in the spirit world, Owen. Okay?”

“Yeah. So that means…?”

“It means, in the real world, your body is kinda… not alive. But it’s being sustained on a basic level by the power of the Orb you touched—for a while, at least.”

A blink’s time passed in silence. Then, “Wh—I’m DEAD?!”

“Now—calm down for a sec!” Star said, holding him by the shoulders to ground him. Owen was already panicking, heart rate increasing, breathing faster than his body could handle. “Not yet! You’re _super-almost-dead_ , but not _dead-dead_ , okay?”

Owen stabilized enough to speak, though his eyes remained wide. “O-okay… okay…” he said. “So—so how do I become not-super-almost-dead?”

Star let him go. “Inside this realm, there’s a Dungeon. At the center, there’s something called a Core. The Core is going to have to accept or reject you, depending on whether I like you or not—or, I guess if you can force your way through, but,”—she flapped her lips with a puff of air—“no way that’s happening. But don’t worry, Owen, you’ll pass that test. But… if you take it,” she said, “you also have to want it. And to want that, you need to know what grabbing that Orb… entails.”

Owen nodded silently.

“It, uh… the Grass Orb, uh… it’s… it’s going to give you a lot of power,” she said. “Power that won’t really show itself at first, but the more you hone it, the stronger you’ll become.”

Owen blinked. “What’s the downside?” he asked. “I’ll be able to help way more people if I’m stronger, right? Does it shorten my lifespan or something?”

“I mean, indirectly,” Star said. “People may want to hunt you down for that power to have it for themselves.”

“It’s what happened to me,” someone said.

Owen turned around, looking at the Jumpluff from before.

“I was the… previous holder of the Grass Orb, long ago.” He stared uneasily at Owen. “And I was slain. From my body emerged the Orb—but before it could be claimed, Rhys took it, protecting the power from being acquired by someone with… less benevolent intentions.”

“The Espurr?” Owen asked.

“Look,” Star said, “A lot of people are after the Orb—and that Espurr is one of them, yeah. Jumpluff Klent,” she motioned to him, “decided to stay back here in order to protect the Grass Orb from the inside, and do anything he could to keep someone from getting to the Core.”

Klent sighed. “I protected the Orb for five hundred years,” he said, “but I just wasn’t strong enough against that sort of power….”

Star nodded. “Owen,” she said, “it’s a huge obligation. You’ll be, eh… you’ll be throwing a normal life away. And if you’re scared, you’ll have to go into hiding, like a lot of other holders did. It’s… it’s not fun, Owen, if you aren’t strong. And you _aren’t_ strong. Not yet. But Rhys could help you, and maybe….”

Owen caught onto something. “Wait,” he said. “So, if I get trained, I’ll be strong enough to guard the Orb, right? Sure. But… why me? Why do I pass so easily?”

“Uhh—” Star fidgeted. Her tail twitched. “You have a lot of… potential! That’s all.”

Owen crossed his arms. “How come, for real?” he asked.

“No, that’s really it—you have a lot of potential. You can definitely keep the Orb safe. And if you do, maybe, I dunno, maybe things can work out?”

“Things can work out,” Owen repeated. He figured that Star was aware of his perceptiveness. Yet, she planned to be evasive anyway? “What things?” he asked. “I mean—you aren’t telling me everything. What are my other two options?”

Star hummed. “Right, the other two. Okay. One is, you can stay here, like Klent, and protect the Orb. The other is, you come with me to the aural sea, and pass on.”

One of the Pidgey net out a soft chirping noise, nuzzling against the other. Jumpluff Klent quietly rubbed his pom-poms together.

“Wh—what choice is that?!” Owen blurted. “So, I either take this power, die, or _super die_?!”

“I mean, uh…. Yes,” Star said.

“Well then, I don’t really have a choice, do I?!” Owen growled. The amount of information was too much for him to fully comprehend; for once, he was able to focus on just one thing. If he didn’t accept, he would never return to the living world again. Nothing else mattered.

“Take… just take me to the Core.” This temptress had led him right into this divine trap.

“Right,” Star said.

 

Owen walked with his arms crossed, head down. The power seemed good. He’d be able to use it for so many rescue missions! But he’d also be hunted down. But if he trained with Rhys, he’ll be able to defend himself! Oh, but then he’ll have to tell his parents.

Owen gulped. All throughout their walk, Pokémon watched him from the bushes, from the shadows, from the branches above—there was even a wooden Ekans nestled inside one of the trunks, eying him silently.

“Um, Star?” the Charmander—perhaps the only Charmander who’d ever set foot in this realm—said. “Does this mean, if I live for a long time, that I’ll outlive everybody? Klent said five hundred years…”

“D’aw, you’re fine,” Star said. “Remember, the Orb taps into the spirit world. They’ll be around.”

For some reason, this lifted a weight off his shoulders. Star looked down at him, bumping up against the tough scales on his ill-defined shoulders. “Aw, you think I’d put you through that? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out. I try to help everyone out, if I can.”

“I’d hope so!” Owen said. “You made life!”

Star giggled. “I do my best.” She then stopped and pointed ahead. There was a distortion of light that was wider than one he’d ever seen before, expanding all the way up, left, and right, like a giant, vertical lake. It only became visible then they approached; prior to that final step, it was unnoticeable.

“That’s the Dungeon that leads to the Core. It’s a single-segment, giant Dungeon. All you need to do is get to the center.”

“…Is it hard?”

“No wild Pokémon, so no, it’s as easy as it gets,” Star said. “Normally, you’ll have spirits protecting it, but seeing as I already gave you the okay, they’ll let you pass without a fuss. Pff, I bet they’ll point you in the right direction, too.”

Owen nodded. “Thanks, Star,” he said. Despite his circumstances, she was still Mew. Maybe she knew something he didn’t, and couldn’t tell him for important reasons. What did he know? She seemed nice enough. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Some sort of divine surprise party. “I… I don’t know what this is all going to turn out like, but it’s… I’m glad that I got to talk to you.”

“D’aw, don’t worry about it,” Star said, scratching her left ear. “…Owen.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember. A lot of people aren’t going to be happy that you took this Orb. To them, you just aren’t fit to be a Guardian. I know you’re a lot older than you look, and I can see into your heart, and I know you’re a good ‘mon and all that. But not everyone else sees it the same way. So, once you get this power… I want you to take it slow, yeah? Don’t get too creative with it, don’t try to make moves to take on more than you did before. Follow what Rhys says. Nevren’s good, too. And Anam. Use your judgement and think conservatively to earn their trust.”

It was uncharacteristically serious of her—making it a bit difficult for Owen to take _this_ seriously. What if it was all just a big joke? Still, he’d get nowhere by doubting her. What she said _sounded_ reasonable so far.

“I get it.” Owen sighed. “Everybody keeps calling me a kid because I’m so small. I mean, who ever heard of an adult Charmander, right?”

“It’s more common than you think,” Star admitted. “Civilized, non-Heart Pokémon don’t exactly fight that often. Wouldn’t be surprised if most folks just didn’t evolve. I’d call it lost potential, but hey, a life of peace doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Well—you know what I mean. And I get what _you_ mean, too. I’ll… take it slow. And train. I… I mean, I always try to take things carefully, right?”

“Owen,” Star said, “if you took everything carefully, you wouldn’t be here.”

Owen’s face felt hot. “F-from here on out, I’ll be more careful.”

“Good!” She clapped her tiny paws together. “And if you ever have any doubts, you can ask me, or even your spirits. We’re here for you. Now, get outta here.” She shooed him away with her tail. “Grab that Core.”

And with that, the Charmander passed through the distortion.

 

Big indeed. Owen lost track of time during his adventure through the single-section Dungeon. Every turn through these bright, narrow halls led to a new room, and every so often, he ran into a spirit that helped him on his way. The walls were made entirely of twisted bark, like a frozen ocean of wood that sprouted entire trees on either side. He’d never seen something so surreal in any Dungeon before.

“H-hang on,” Owen said to the tenth spirit: a tea-flavored Slurpuff. “Is this really the fastest way there?”

“It is,” said the spirit. “Having trouble? You can always take a break.”

“N-no, no, I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just… so big for a Dungeon. A single section, too!”

“Well, it’s the spirit world, so some things are a little different. But you’re really close, now. Just a few hundred more rooms.”

“Aaaagh…”

But, eventually, he did find his way. He made the final turn and saw a long, dark hallway. The forest was quite dim here, and the trees were overgrown, blotting out the sun—or, whatever it was that simulated a sun in this realm. The only light source was a dim glow at the end of the hall. Owen walked toward it. His shadow loomed threateningly behind him the closer he got. The glow came from higher up. He entered a small clearing lined with a wall of more twisted wood, arching into a giant dome.

In the center of this dome was a floating, white light. Owen couldn’t look directly at it for very long.

“There it is,” Star said.

Owen yelped and spun around. “W-were you following me?!”

“No, I just teleported here,” Star said. “Say, are you ready? All you need to do is reach out to the light, and let it go into your chest. That’ll be enough.”

“O-okay,” Owen said. “And… will it hurt?”

“Might feel a little hot.”

“Well, I like hot,” Owen said, perking up. Star’s left brow raised slightly, and he immediately grumbled and faced the Core again. He squinted at the light and held his small arms out. “Okay, um, Core! I’ll take care of you from now on!”

The core got brighter. It was getting closer to him. He shut his eyes and felt an intense heat emanate from his chest. “Ngh—!” He gasped and opened his eyes. The center of his chest was glowing. It slowly faded, and the clearing became dark except for the flicker of the flame on his tail. “Wow…” he said.

“Nice!” Star said.

“What now?” he asked.

“Just wait a bit,” Star said. “Takes a little time for the spirit to assimilate and stuff. Say, how was the walk?”

“Hated it.”

“Well, at least you weren’t fighting spirits the whole way.”

Owen snorted.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed. Star looked aimlessly to the left and right, as if searching for a conversation starter. “So,” the Mew said, “what d’you wanna do? Maybe I could turn into a Charmander again.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I’m bored. Maybe we can—”

Something bright caught Owen’s eye. He looked at his arms; lights were coming from his feet, rising like bubbles. “Wh-what’s happening?!”

“Hey, you finished absorbing the power! Nice. You’re waking up,” Star said. “Oh, right, I forgot. Uh—when you wake up, don’t panic, but you might look a little—”

But the lights were too much, and Owen evaporated in front of her. Star stared at where Owen once was and sighed.

“Eh. He’ll be fine.”

Star shrugged and spun around. She saw a silhouette.

“Star,” Klent said, standing at the entrance.

“Oh, hey,” Star said.

“…Owen. Why do you trust _him_?” he asked. “I agreed to go along with it, but… I still don’t exactly want to help him right now.”

“Oh, come on, it’s been _so_ long,” Star said. “It’s not like—"

“And _yet_ —” Klent said.

“Don’t ‘and yet’ me, you know this is our last shot!” Star said. “And Owen is the best one to do it. You know that. He’s stable now. Mostly. And if we wait any longer, Eon will get all the Orbs instead. No more procrastinating. We need to get Owen, _and those other three_ , nice and ready. With Team Alloy or whatever they call themselves together, and with them in control, it’ll work out.”

Klent ruffled his pom-poms together irritably. “I won’t go against him,” the Jumpluff said, “but I’m not ready to help him, either. The other spirits will. But I’ll… just watch, for now.” He turned around. “I’m going to see Amelia. She’s still shaken by all this.”

Star flinched. “O-oh… right, yeah, okay,” Star said softly. “Um, Okay. Take care? It’s—it’s not as bad as it seems. Amia and Alex are doing a great job, and so is Rhys with the other three. I promise, this’ll work out.”

“Will you make that a Divine Promise?” Klent asked.

Star bit her lower lip.

“I’m going to see Amelia.”

“Yeah…” Star said. The Jumpluff spirit vanished; shortly after, so did the Mew.

 

“HE’S COMING BACK!” Demitri yelled into the cave. At the entrance to the kitchen, he saw Rhys returning from his meeting, walking past his little berry garden. The Lucario was distracted by a particularly ripe Pecha Berry, picking it from the branches. But even with those few extra seconds, they simply didn’t have enough time to cover up what had happened.

“Is—is he awake yet?!” The Axew rushed past the kitchen table, through the rocky halls, and into Gahi’s room, nearly falling into his sand pit.

“I dunno, scale-bag, the guy’s tail isn’t even lit up!” Gahi said, churring angrily next to Owen in his Rawst bed. The Trapinch slammed his head against the dead Charmander’s side, expecting that to be enough to rouse him from an eternal slumber.

“B-but he’s breathing, right? Barely?!” Demitri asked. He was hyperventilating, on the edge of fainting, at risk of becoming the second casualty of the morning.

Mispy, on the other side of the Charmander, shot another Heal Pulse at his body, but to no effect. As far as his body was concerned, he was in top shape. No bruises, no abnormalities, no ailments—he just _happened_ to be dead.

Gahi paced in a fast, small circle in the room, into the hall, and then back into the room again, thinking of a way that they could get Owen awake. “We—we ain’t gonna wake’m in time, are we?”

“Is he even… alive?” the Chikorita said. She brought her leaf to his chest, feeling for a pulse. He had been breathing shallowly before, and her leaf had felt the warm breath from his nose. But it had been fading quickly.

She noticed that Owen’s body was turning a sickly green, and his scales felt disturbingly soft, like he was already decomposing in front of them.

“I’m home,” Rhys said, entering the mouth of the cave.

“H-heyyy, Rhys!” Demitri greeted, running up to him in the kitchen. He bowed a bit too deeply toward the Lucario. “H-how are you doing?”

“I am doing well,” Rhys said, staring suspiciously. “And what are you doing? Where is Owen?” he asked, seeing Mispy and Gahi step out of the bedroom.

“H-he… eh, he’s… resting,” Gahi said, glancing at Mispy. “Yeah? Just having a nap? M-Mispy?”

The Chikorita was incredibly pale.

Rhys entered his own room and inspected the shelf. _Mostly_ everything appeared to be in its proper place. He saw his Pecha stash was untouched. His artifacts and mementos pristine. The Book of Mew lay undisturbed. Yet, the Grass Orb was missing. The trio knew, immediately, that Rhys figured it out.

“Students,” he said, slowly turning, “I want you to show me Owen.”

“H-he’s… he’s sleeping,” Demitri said.

“Y-yeah, maybe we shouldn’t bother’m,” Gahi said.

Mispy was on the verge of tears. Demitri knocked his claws against one another, eyes wide. Owen was dead. They let him die. All because they didn’t listen to—

“Ugh, my head…” someone said from Gahi’s room.

“Th-there!” Demitri said. “He’s awake!”

Mispy’s leaf twitched in surprise. She turned, still in shocked disbelief, and trotted after Demitri. Rhys followed them with Gahi.

“W-wait,” Demitri said, “I… Owen?”

Gahi stared. “How the…”

Rhys crossed his arms in resignation. “Hello, Owen.”

Owen rubbed his head. Something about it felt… different. He felt—what was the word— _fuzzy_? No, that wasn’t right. It was as if his entire body was covered in a soft, flexible layer of scales. Not his usual, firm plating. He ran his right hand on his left arm. He recognized the feeling. Vaguely, just _barely_ reminiscent of feathers. It reminded him of his bed.

“L-leaves…?” he mumbled, looking down. His front, once a pale brown, was the same color as pale grass; what were once orange scales along his back and arms were now sea-green. “What?”

Owen took in a sharp breath in panic. What sort of joke was this?! He felt something welling up inside his gut. Normally, it would feel like a heat building in the back of his throat. Ember—a bad habit of a reflex if he ever felt in trouble, perhaps a fragment of his primal instincts. But this time, he felt something solid choking him from the inside of his neck. His eyes bulged in surprise—out from his mouth came a single, fat vine that narrowly missed Demitri’s shoulder. It snapped against the wall with a loud _crack!_ and fell limply on the floor, twitching.

Owen, choking on his own vine. He flailed helplessly against it, trying to pull it out of him, but it was attached somewhere deep inside his stomach. He tried to breathe in. It writhed like a struggling Wurmple, and then retracted rapidly into his mouth. Owen gasped for air.

“Ugh—! Th-that’s not right!” he said. “Wait—leaves… everything became… The Grass Orb,” he rubbed his head, looking at his leafy paws. “W-wait… that means…!” Panicking, he grabbed his tail, pulling it around to look for his fire. Just _one_ thing to keep him sane, just _one_ remnant of his Fiery pride. It couldn’t have all changed. He was a _Char_ mander! If he lost the one thing—

At the tip of his tail was not a flame, but a flower: a small, white daffodil.

“AAAAAUUUUUUUUGH!”


	9. A Thousand-Heart Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen learns that not only will his future change dramatically due to his acquisition of the Grass Orb, but that some important figures in his life have not been telling him the truth.

“I’m a PLANT!” Owen screeched, grabbing his own chest, tugging gently at the feather-like arrangement of leaves that covered his body. He yelped when he realized that it was a lot easier to pull them away than he expected. One of the leaves fell to the ground like a heavy feather; a tiny splotch of green blood was left behind where the leaf had been plucked.

“Ow,” he mumbled, rubbing at the small hole left behind. The bleeding stopped quickly. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with being a plant,” he said to Mispy, who was glaring at him. “J-just—I’m a Charmander! _Char_ mander! Like fire! Not a—a—”

“Grassmander?” Demitri said.

Demitri’s remark send Gahi over the edge. The Trapinch laughed, rolling his huge head and round body on the ground. “GRASSMANDER!” he shouted to the heavens. “Oh, Arceus may’s well kill me now, there ain’t nothing gonna top this!”

“It’s—it’s not funny!” Owen said, puffing out. “I’m not ready for this!” He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Gahi had a point to laugh at the situation, for one reason or another. And perhaps, in a few days, Owen would laugh, too. But for now, at the front of Owen’s mind, the Charmander was thinking about the most effective way to crack an exoskeleton.

“Now, Owen, close your eyes,” Rhys said carefully. “Try to meditate, yes? Can you do that?”

“I…! I… I’ll _try_ ,” Owen said, feeling the vine in the back of his throat well up. He was used to embers billowing from his mouth when he did that. Instead, he felt that same, _horrible_ vine prodding at the back of his throat. He gulped to keep it down. It writhed in his gut like a giant parasite. “I guess it’s—is this permanent?” he asked, clutching his belly.

“Likely not,” Rhys said. “Owen… you absorbed the Grass Orb into your being. The Grass Type, in other words, is manifesting itself in you. But soon, your body will properly assimilate it, and you will return to your Fiery self—and, perhaps after a bit of training, you’ll be able to transform from one form to the other at will. That can be quite useful.”

“O-okay… okay, I think that makes sense…” Owen said. “So, I just have to wait for now? Rhys—how do you know about all this?”

“I’ve studied it before,” he said dismissively, “And, hrm…” he paused. “Owen, could you come with me? I would like to take you to town.”

“H-hey, can we come, too?” Demitri said.

“Yeah, I wanna hear what this is all about,” Gahi said.

“Please?” Mispy asked.

“Ngh… I’m not sure,” Rhys said. “We will see.”

“We’re gonna follow,” Gahi said.

Rhys growled, “Are you going to disobey me?”

“Owen will just tell us,” Mispy said.

The Lucario growled. He knew they were right. “You will come,” he said, “but you will be silent unless addressed. Understood?”

“Silent, eh,” Gahi said.

“Gahi,” Rhys glared.

“Okay, okay,” Gahi said, flicking his head in what was his species’ equivalent of an eyeroll. He looked at Rhys. “Silent.”

Owen gulped. He thought Rhys would be extraordinarily upset at him for touching the Orb, and he remembered Star’s words to behave conservatively for now. Perhaps she was right about convincing him; he didn’t feel that tension from Rhys. At _all_. In fact, Owen sensed… relief. Rhys was _relieved_ that Owen grabbed the Orb.

Somehow, this made the Grassy Charmander—he _refused_ to adopt the term “Grassmander”—feel even worse.

Rhys retreated into the storage room and returned with what appeared to be a cloth three times the size of Owen. “Wear this,” he said.

“Wear?” Owen asked. “What’s…?”

“This is a cloak. We can’t let you be visible in public,” Rhys said. “You may be mistaken for a mutant.”

Owen gulped, reaching for the cloak. It was heavy. It felt like it was made from some sort of fur and silk. It was a wonderful shade of blue, with hints of black and cream-colored fur as well. Owen brought it a bit closer, sniffing the disguise curiously. It felt quite natural and soft. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over him—something about the smell made him want to nestle into it for a nice, long—

“AUGH!” Owen hurled the cloak against the wall. “GROSS!”

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all flinched.

“Wh-what’s wrong?!” Demitri said.

“What’re you panicking fer?” Gahi said, clicking his jaws.

Owen pointed an accusatory finger at Rhys, and his vine shot from his mouth again halfway. He chomped down to keep it from fully emerging, and he swallowed it back. After a fit of coughing, he said raggedly, “That’s _your_ fur!”

“Of—of course it is! I happen to shed quite a bit during the summer,” Rhys said. “I wasn’t going to put it all to waste! I made it into a cloak. I wove it with some Wurmple silk for a foundation, let it dry, and—”

“I’m wearing YOU!” Owen said. “Who hoards their own fur?! You don’t see me making a—making a bag out of my discarded scales! I think I’m going to throw up—”

Owen belched a volley of claw-sized seeds from his mouth. Rhys ducked to avoid the high-velocity projectiles, which instead clattered loudly against the rocky wall behind him.

“Bullet Seed,” Mispy said with wide, fascinated eyes.

Owen groaned. Rhys stepped to his pelt and picked it up, dusting off a few of the bullets. He put it back in Owen’s arms.

“You will wear this,” he said. “We cannot go in public otherwise. Understood?”

Owen stared at the cloak of Rhys. The mixture of disgust and comfort he got from holding it in his arms was enough to make the vine in his belly writhe. “Unghh.” He finally slipped it on.

It was very warm.

 

Owen walked in total silence on their way to Kilo Village. He didn’t know what he looked like; he only knew that the cloak covered him quite well. He felt a lot like a Mimikyu, or a Tangela, hidden away in a veil of darkness. He wondered, briefly, if this was going to be how he’d have to live forever. Even if he would eventually return to his Fiery self… that Espurr was going to hunt him down. He didn’t feel much stronger. If she was out for blood, the fight would be over in one misstep.

Owen briefly lifted his cloak to catch a glance at the sky. It looked like it was just before noon.

A nagging feeling tugged in the back of his mind. He felt bare, despite the cloak. He realized shortly after that there was a distinct lack of _weight_ on his left shoulder. He’d forgotten his bag at Rhys’ home. _Too late now_ , he thought.

“How long was I out…?” Owen asked.

“It was not very long,” Rhys said. “I left to speak with the Association, and then I returned home after a… small errand. Then, well, I arrived. Apparently, you _immediately_ went for the Orb once I was gone, is that right?”

“M-maybe,” Owen said. “But… I feel like I’ve been gone for days. That Dungeon in the Orb was huge!”

“Time passes differently in the spirit world,” Rhys said. “It can go as fast or as slow as it wishes, depending on the environment, and other conditions. Now then,” he said, “let’s go to the Association.”

 Owen navigated up the stairway, tripping over the cloak—it was too long for him. There were a few instances where his legs and tail were exposed to the world. Rhys was quick to shove Owen back underneath.

On the way up the stairs, Owen briefly wondered—bitterly—why he had to get caught up in this in the first place. What were these Orbs even for, anyway? Why did they exist at all? He wanted to ask, but he had a feeling that there were more pressing answers he wanted to learn, first. For example, how someone would react to seeing a Grass-Typed Charmander. If he was mistaken for a mutant, he’d be mulch in seconds, wouldn’t he?

They walked through the halls of the large, heart-shaped building, going straight for Anam’s quarters. Owen, recognizing the turns being made, and following the purple path painted on the ground, realized where they were going. Straight to Goodra Anam. “W-wait, how big is this Orb stuff?”

“Bigger than you will expect,” Rhys said.

“Owen!”

“M-mom?!” Owen threw his cloak off with an enthusiasm that insulted Rhys—thankfully, nobody else was around. He pointed at the blue Gardevoir. “G-guys! It’s—why’s my mom here?”

Amia ran over to him and picked him up, holding him close to her chest. Owen murmured something about not being handled that way, and that he wasn’t some kid to pick up, but his protests were weak and halfhearted. Being embraced by his mother was something he _really_ needed.

“Oh, Owen, I was so worried! I thought something had happened, and…! Oh, your father has been completely distraught!”

The Magmortar emerged from Anam’s office next and nodded. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold him, too. But he held back, considering his new Type. “Owen! What happened?” Alex said. “Why are you…?”

“…Amia,” Rhys said, nodding at her.

“O-oh, Rhys,” Amia said. “Um… hello. How have you been?”

Owen blinked. “Wait,” he said. “What’s going on? You—you know my mom? Mom? You know… Rhys? H-he’s an Elite!”

Owen took it all in. Amia and Alex, his adoptive parents, were both there. They knew Rhys. And now, they were all going to see the Head of the Association, Anam…. “Why’d you come here?” Owen asked.

“Wait, hang on,” Gahi said. “Yer mom’s a Gardevoir? How’s that work? I may not be much of a reader, but ain’t the mom usually the same species?!”

Mispy bopped Gahi on the head with a vine. “Don’t ask that.”

“I was adopted,” Owen said.

Demitri sighed, rubbing his right tusk. “Sorry about Gahi,” he said. After an awkward two seconds of silence, he added, “If it’s any help, er, we don’t know our real parents, either!”

“You don’t say,” Owen said. He would normally be suspicious of them sharing _that_ aspect with him, too, but there were bigger issues to deal with in his head. It was a struggle to triage all of the incoming questions he had swirling around his head.

“Er, actually,” Amia said, addressing Owen’s question, “we came here because James came for _us_ ,” Amia said. “He said that you’d be here soon, and we’d… want to see you. I think he was right.”

“Owen,” Alex said, “why did you touch the Orb? Why didn’t you tell us that—” Alex shook his head.

“Wait, you know about the Orb?” Owen asked.

“You may stop your questions, Owen.” A Decidueye rose from the ground in the form of a black fog, materializing seconds later. “Anam is ready to see you. Rhys, keep a close eye on the entrance while we talk, yes?”

“Of course,” Rhys said.

“Is—is nobody going to point out that James just rose from the ground like s-some sort of phantom?” Owen asked. “H-he’s a Ghost Type, but he’s not…!” He followed them, but at this point, Owen wondered if he was still dead.

They all entered Anam’s room. Rhys stayed at the back with his eyes closed, standing guard. He was constantly watching for auras. Owen, uneasy, thought about the Espurr from before. Is that what Rhys was looking for?

Anam’s office was only about seven of the Goodra’s paces across. Upon entering, the left side was riddled with books covered in a permanent, hard layer of dry slime. It flaked off to the touch, but it had a net gain every time the Goodra contacted them. Owen spotted, at the far end of the shelf, an _ancient_ -looking edition of the Book of Arceus, with a white cover that was faded and worn by time. Perhaps it was preserved only because of the layer of dried slime that encrusted it. He even spotted on an upper shelf a thick book titled _The Unabridged Encyclopedia of Pokémon Abilities and Techniques, Seventh Edition_.

Owen, realizing that he was only familiar with the sixth edition, stared enviously at it. For a precious few seconds, he’d forgotten about his troubles, replaced by the petty thought of how much it would cost to buy one. Unfortunately, the feeling of leaves on his arm brought his current troubles back to the forefront of his mind.

The right side of the office had a giant board with many papers pinned all over. It seemed to be for the sake of planning and organizing. It looked incredibly chaotic; Owen couldn’t make out any form of pattern to where everything was placed.

The middle of the room had a desk made of dark wood, polished either by a craftsperson or by Anam’s general moistness. It was covered in a stack of paper a quarter as tall as Owen’s head, with a small bottle of Bluk Berry concentrate to the side for ink. Behind the desk, to the back of the office, was a pool of water that Anam likely used to stay hydrated. It had its own current—the inflow came from the left, with the outflow going to the back.

Anam was sitting in this pool of water, nibbling at his fingers nervously. “Owen,” the Goodra said, frowning at the Grass-Charmander. “Rhys… is this what you wanted to happen?” he said. “Why? This might….”

“Hold on,” Owen said. “What’s going on? How come you guys are all… do you guys all know something I don’t?”

Of course they did.

“Hey, we’re in the same boat,” Gahi said. “What’s going on?”

Mispy wrapped a vine around Gahi’s huge jaws to keep him quiet. Demitri remained silent. They knew that if they just let them speak, all would become clear—or, as clear as they could make it, at least.

“Owen,” Rhys said, “There is something that you should know about… the Orbs, and their history. For a long while, they have been guarded by Pokémon like you—those who have taken hold of the Orb, claiming its Core as their own. These Pokémon are known as Guardians—ideally, there would be one for each Type. A Guardian of Grass, in other words, would be you.”

“I’m… I’m the Grass Guardian?” Owen said.

“Well,” Rhys said, “you are _now_ , after taking the Orb.”

“Recently,” James said, “there has been an… increase in Orb-related activity. A Pokémon has figured out how to find them, somehow, and is now trying to gather them up. We do not know how many she has,” he said, “but she has at least one, due to the glow she gives off in the darkness. The Espurr, known as Rim. Is that correct, Rhys?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I have tracked her for quite some time. We used to be familiar with one another, until our motivations… diverged. Now, she has an Orb within her… likely taken from a slain Guardian.”

“S-slain?” Owen said. “Wait, motivations? Wait, but what’s the point? Why does she want them? To be a little stronger?”

James shook his head. “Each extra Orb amplifies one’s power,” he said. “To gather them all within one being? You could become something far greater than some of the highest Legendary Pokémon known to us. You could rival Arceus himself. At least… that is what you have gathered, Rhys, from your research?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “Gathering all of the Orbs will grant you… considerable power. You could distort reality itself. That’s already possible with _one_ Orb and enough training—but every single Orb, gathered together, will exponentiate its range of influence to, quite possibly, the entire world. Perhaps further. This is why we need the Orbs to remain apart. Separate, and as far away as possible.”

“In other words, dear,” Amia said, “we don’t want someone who _wants_ that power… to actually have it. It could end, um… everything, dear.”

“E-everything?” Owen said. “but… but if…! I mean… St—Star! Star, the Mew! Can’t she stop this?”

“She is of the spirit world,” Rhys said. “Something is holding them back from interfering with matters of the Orb in the world of the living. So, we are on our own.”

“Oh, great,” Owen mumbled, wondering what could possibly be holding her back.

Owen wasn’t sure if he was fully absorbing this information. All he knew that the vine writhing in his stomach was replaced by a cold lump of ice. Why did Star trick him into touching this thing? Suddenly, worrying about getting mugged in a Dungeon felt a lot more desirable.

“Okay,” Owen said. “So, the Orbs, and their Guardians—all this time, they’ve been kept separate, right? So,” Owen briefly wondered if he should ask, but he had to, for his curiosity was not satiated, “what’s this have to do with all you guys?”

Owen didn’t like the amount of silence that filled the room then. He eyed them all. Anam, James, Rhys—his friends, and his parents. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi seemed totally lost. But everyone else in the room were tense, as if the answer was pressing against their lips and beak.

“There are three Guardians within this room,” Rhys said.

Rhys didn’t pause from his first sentence to the second. Yet, to Owen, there was an eternity’s worth of time dividing the two. Three guardians. He was one. His parents were here. Why were they here? He knew why. But he didn’t want to know.

“Owen, you are one of them. Association Head Anam is the second. And the third…”

_No. No, no, no,_ Owen thought.

Amia gulped. “I’m sorry, Owen, but… so am I, dear. I’ve been the Fire Guardian for a very long time.”

“M… Mom? But—but then what about… what about Dad?”

James sighed. “It is true,” he said. “Guardians do not die of age. Unless they give up their power, or are slain, they live forever. Therefore, they are sure to outlast all of their loved ones, who pass on to the spirit world.”

Alex nodded. “The spirit world. That’s where I truly reside, Owen,” he said. “I’ve… been dead, technically, for quite some time.”

Owen’s head was spinning. He sat down in the middle of the room, covering his eyes. “H-hang on… y-you’re… but you’re right here! You’re right in front of me! You aren’t a spirit! You’re… alive! _You’re alive_!”

The Magmortar glanced at the Gardevoir, who nodded. Amia held her hand up; Alex suddenly disintegrated, becoming nothing more than a small, blue ember. It entered her hand. Gone.

“Guardians can summon spirits, dear,” Amia said. “It’s one of the very first techniques you will learn. And while those spirits are weak at first… they will eventually become solid, and mimic the living.”

“I, too,” James said, “am a spirit. I suppose, in a sense, I have been by Anam’s side for longer than he has been Guardian.”

Owen was close to tears. His whole world was collapsing around him. His dad was a ghost. His mom was immortal. What’s next?

“Th-then,” Owen said, “what’s… going to happen to me?” he said. “If the Guardians have to be s-separated… th-then what’s…?”

“We will no longer be following that policy,” Rhys said before James could answer. “It would be cruel to separate you from your own mother. Additionally,” he paused, “now that it is apparent that Rim—the Espurr—has a means of tracking down Guardians, it is now a bad idea to keep the powers isolated for her to pick away one at a time. We should beat her at her own game—and gather the Guardians ourselves.”

“We can use our cave!” Amia said. “Since the entire village is just my spirits, I could easily have the houses be more… vacant… for other Guardians!”

“ _The villagers, too_?!” Owen cried. “B-but what about the Granny Arcanine down the road? O-or—or the Infernape that’s always repairing houses? Those _kids_ that played by the—! They’re… they’re all dead?”

“Their status doesn’t change the way they live,” Amia said, trying to assure Owen. “They just… happen to be spirits. That’s all!”

“Is that why I never see anybody eating?” Owen said. “Because… they don’t need to? D-Dad, you said you ate breakfast! You… you said so!” He realized that his father was no longer around. In some primal, irrational reaction, his eyes darted around to find him. His mother made another motion, summoning a blue ember. It materialized into his father. Owen shook his head.

“I’m sorry that this is so much, Owen,” Alex said. “But. I promise, even though everything is different—it isn’t _very_ different—if you… just look at it a certain way, it isn’t so bad! Don’t you think?”

Owen’s mind was processing it all, yet processing none of it. Thoughts whirled so rapidly that nothing stuck. The cacophony in his head made the voices outside him feel like distant echoes.

 It was all fake. Fabrications. His mother. His father. His _entire hometown_. It was all one great illusion. His whole past was built on an elaborate lie.

“I—I need to go,” Owen said. “I just—I need some air.”

“Owen, wait!” Anam said. The Charmander was trying to get out, weaving past the others. Mispy was the closet to him, but she didn’t get in the way. Rhys leaned forward to stop him, but Owen was too fast. The second Rhys’ muscles made the twitch to advance, Owen ran out, but skidded to halt only a few paces later.

“Ah,” Alakazam Nevren greeted at the entryway. “Hello, Owen. That is an interesting fashion statement.”

Owen was quiet. “You… y-you know, too,” he said.

“Hm? Oh, was I late?” Nevren said.

“Very,” Rhys said. “Why were you not here?”

“Well, unfortunately,” Nevren said, “I was busy handling the memories of all the townsfolk you recklessly rushed past with a Grass-Type Charmander, Rhys. Whatever disguise you used exposed his tail and legs quite a few times.”

“Ngh… was it truly that many?”

“Yes, quite that many,” Nevren nodded.

“Wait—what?” Owen said. “What do you mean?”

“I had to, ah, slightly modify the memories of those who saw you,” Nevren said.

“You can do that?” Owen asked.

“Not on my own, no,” Nevren said. “It was just an… invention of mine, thanks to some of Rhys’ help. We needed it in order to maintain Anam’s position, lest people realize that a Goodra has been the Association Head for centuries, let alone _my_ existence alongside Rhys.”

“Hang on, you two are immortal, too? How is—”

“Oy, what’s all that about?” Gahi spoke up.

“Ahh…” Nevren nodded. “We are. But for a different, but related, reason, so to speak.”

“Boy, that’s useful,” Owen said.

Suddenly, his head was too full, and he didn’t want to ask more. He was done. He didn’t care anymore. His curiosity was satiated, and then bloated, and then force-fed. “I’m going.”

“Going?” Nevren said. “I’d recommend against it. That Espurr could appear at any moment, actually, and we wouldn’t want you to be—” Nevren touched Owen’s shoulder.

“I WANT TO GO!” Owen roared. Rhys reached out to grab him, but Owen turned his head and spat a well-aimed flurry of seeds in his face. Some got in his eyes.

Owen broke off in a sprint. Nevren immediately attempted to restrain him with a well-placed twist of the air—but the new Guardian was too clever and dodged in time, predicting the strike. He had too much experience with Psychic by now to let one connect so easily.

“Ahh…” Nevren watched him go. “Perhaps we should chase him.”

Rhys was already on it, a blur of blue and white with the help of an Extremespeed. With his vision slightly impaired, he was slower than usual. Gahi was running, too, barely keeping up. Once they both got to the exit of the Heart, they were abruptly ensnared by vines that sprouted from the ground, completely blocking the entryway. “Agh—he used—what is this—a Grass variant of his Trap technique—” Rhys muttered.

Nevren’s eyes glowed. He vanished from the office and appeared ahead, right by the stairs to the southern road, blocking Owen’s way. “Stop!” Nevren said, holding a hand up. He created a barrier.

Owen ran straight into it, baring his fangs at Nevren. “Let me out!” he said, slamming his fist against the barrier. His heart was beating against the sides of his head.

“I can’t allow that, Owen,” Nevren said. “You will stay here while we sort things out.”

“I said…” Owen said, his vision turning red. He pounded against the barrier. “Let… me… OUT!”

And then, a bright, white light enveloped Owen. It was a brilliant glow—one that surrounded all Pokémon that were in the process of ascending to their next stage in life. But for a brief instant during that evolution, there was a tinge of something else—a strange, blackish bolt. Owen roared from within the light, slamming his fist on the barrier once again. He didn’t have time to fully process his new height or more defined shoulders, or his new, lanky appearance as a Charmeleon. He only knew to attack again. His mouth opened wide, and a thick vine slammed against Nevren’s barrier with an ethereal _thud_.

“Ngh—” The feedback caused Nevren to fall backwards. The grassy Charmeleon—leaves for scales, and an even larger flower on his tail—ran past the Elite.

Rhys broke through the vines by the entrance, rushing past Nevren. A second set of vines erupted from the ground beneath him, ensnaring the Lucario yet again. “Nevren!” he hissed. “Why did you not pursue him?”

“Ah, he’s well beyond my scope,” Nevren said flatly, sitting up. “I suggest you chase him instead. I need to remain behind and modify the memories of the Pokémon he runs past again.”

Rhys cursed Star’s name and advanced. He saw the green Charmeleon enter one of the many Waypoints in the long rows. Which one was it? He ran to where it was and read it to himself. “Calm Water Lake…” He cursed Arceus’ name next. “Why must he behave so childishly…?” He supposed the revelations could have been done a _bit_ more gradually… but he didn’t have to _flee_. Rhys stepped onto the Waypoint—and a flurry of vines wrapped around the metallic tile, blocking it completely.

 

Owen didn’t know how long he had been running. He just kept going. From the building, to the Waypoint, to the Dungeon. Water splashed all over; the fact that he partially _enjoyed_ the feeling of water on his leaves was so unsettling that he had to slow down. Snoozing Pokémon stared dumbly at Owen when he passed. A particularly irritable Krabby pinched Owen’s leg, but when it did, the limb burst into an angry, writing pair of vines. The sight alone frightened the Krabby enough to scuttle away, bubbling in terror. Owen tripped over his one working leg, staring in a new mixture of emotions—annoyance and terror.

“Normal—back to normal, you stupid—” he tried to focus, but his leg kept flailing, the vines splashing in protest against the watery Dungeon. He got onto his one working foot and hobbled forward, using his hands to drag himself along the walls. His right arm disintegrated next. He fell into the water.

“P-please, _please_!” he cried, using his left hand to cover his eyes. But his claws were no longer there. His _hands_ were no longer there. He gasped and stared at what they’d become—writhing tendrils covered in thorns, all the way up to his shoulders.

Owen screamed. He screamed and rolled onto his back, swinging his split arms against the rocks, creating small gashes in the sandstone. His tail and legs were gone. They, too, were ingraining themselves into the ground, into the walls, and Owen had no control over it. “Stop, _stop, STOP_!” Owen wailed. “PLEASE, STOP!”

_Meditate_ , a voice said softly.

He kept swinging, trying to pull his arms together. He started by trying to get some feeling—some semblance of a feeling—of lifting his arms toward himself, to his chest. But the thorns and the vines just kept writhing and twisting ineffectually in the water like a dying insect.

_Meditate, Owen_. _Breathe._

“H-help… someone…” Owen was nothing but a head and torso amid a tapestry of plant life.

_Close your eyes and breathe._

Owen whimpered, but he obeyed. He could hear the gurgling of the vines sloshing in the loose ground beneath him. He felt the chaotic ripples of the water on his sides. It slowed down. His vines stopped moving.

He took a slow, deep breath. His heart was still frantically beating away in his head. His right arm involuntarily twitched; his head shot there, staring. It was back to normal. He panted, looking at the rest of him. He saw the final few vines twist themselves into a spiral, solidifying into a leg. He tentatively clenched his toes.

“Oh, Mew,” Owen finally said. He covered his eyes, shaking. His breathing was uneven and trembling. He shook his head and stood up. And he remained standing for a while, not advancing.

He was in the Dungeon already; there was no turning back. He had to keep going. And so, with step after careful step, the Charmeleon continued.

In the third segment, he spotted it: that same, strange wall, into the glowing labyrinth. It wasn’t repaired. He didn’t really know for sure if he was beyond the Dungeon’s influence yet. He’d left behind his bag, and therefore his Badge, at Rhys’ home. He was a bit glad for it, though. If he had his bag when he evolved, he might have ruined its contents from whatever happened in the Dungeon. He already had it ruined once in the fight with Aerodactyl. To ruin his spare one, too? Maybe that time, he would’ve lost all his precious items, like the Eviolite given to him by—

“Nevren…” he mumbled, thinking about that gift. It would still be useful to him as a Charmeleon, with one more evolutionary step to take. He stared at his claws, pressing them together. It was inconvenient to go from four fingers to three. At least his hands were bigger. The horn on the back of his head was an odd addition, though. He felt like he could sense things even more thoroughly. He was _sure_ he could even tell what was around the corner.

He should’ve been ecstatic. He evolved. He _finally_ evolved.

He just wished that his evolution was a bit happier than how it happened.

Owen felt someone knocking at his mental door. What an odd feeling—a thought that wasn’t his, calling for him to listen.

_Owen? Owen, hello?_ It was the same voice that told him to meditate.

_…Star?_

_What’s WRONG with you?!_ Star said, exasperated. _You did the_ one _thing I told you not to do!_

_C-c’mon, give me a break, they… they all just… everyone lied to me! Every single one! Mom’s immortal, Dad’s dead, turns out the leader of the world is part of some giant conspiracy, and two of my idols are in on it!  And—and YOU! You forced me to do this!_

_E-excuse me?!_

Owen raised his arms, mouthing his thoughts like a lunatic. He mimicked Star’s tone. _Oh, Owen, it’s no big deal, just take this Orb or die! Not that hard a choice! Go on, be happy, turn your tail into a flower!_ Owen slammed his hand against the wall and yelped. It exploded into more vines. After a second of panic, he closed his eyes, breathed slowly, and waited for it to go back to normal. He sighed, and a few seeds spilled from his throat; he choked for a few seconds and had to stop walking to clear his chest.

_Don’t talk to me,_ Owen finally growled. _I need to cool off._

Owen could feel Star about to protest, but then she stopped herself. Relieved, he sighed. But now he just felt guilty.

_Thanks,_ Owen said. _I’ll… I’ll talk to you later, okay? Just… not now. I need to…_

_Just be careful._

Owen left it at that. But his time alone with his thoughts lasted only five seconds.

_Turn back, turn back…!_

A pang of irritation hit Owen. He quietly advanced, head down.

_Go away… run…!_

_Or become one of us…!_

Owen said nothing. He kept walking. His claws pressed into his palms.

_Do you have a death wish?_

_We’ll kill you!_

Owen didn’t even feel afraid. Not after all this. Even if they were spirits, he could still sense their intentions in how they spoke. They wouldn’t try to hurt him. They were just trying to scare him away. And he was in no mood to be spooked by even more dead Pokémon. _After all,_ Owen thought bitterly, _I’ve been with them all my life._

_This isn’t a Dungeon anymo—_

That was it.

“I know!” Owen yelled. His voice echoed through the halls and returned to him. He shouted again. “I _know!_ ” He stomped his foot on the ground. “I know this isn’t a Dungeon, and I know you guys are spirits! I get it!” He turned around, addressing the glowing walls.

“The Water Guardian is here! I don’t care WHAT you are, okay?! I’m not here to fight! I can’t even be _bothered_ to fight! You have _no_ idea how rare that is with me! I’m a Guardian, too, and this was all kinda just thrown at me this morning! I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m tired, I’m confused, I’m just—” His voice cracked. “I hate… _everything_ right now, and I just want to talk to… to someone I don’t know, who’s… who’s in my situation, okay!?”

Owen sniffed, shaking his head. He stomped his foot again. “So just—shut up, quit the haunted caves act, and let me through! Okay?!”

His voice echoed for three seconds.

When nobody responded, he shouted one last time. “Are you done?!”

The spirits only replied with silence. After five more seconds of it, Owen huffed and continued onward. The catharsis of finally screaming at something forced hot tears to well up, but he blinked them away. He refused to cry.

For the rest of the long walk, not a single spirit bothered him, let alone attacked. His only encounter with one of the Watery spirits was a Swampert on the far end of the cavern’s many turns. Upon seeing Owen, the spirit meekly dove into the wall to avoid confrontation.

The Grass-Typed Charmeleon went through the rest of the cave without resistance. Slowly, his thoughts transitioned from hatred of the present to fear of the future.


	10. Lonely Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen has a heart-to-heart with a fellow embittered Guardian. There, he learns more about his circumstances.

No wild Pokémon resided within these glowing caves. Unsurprising. There wasn’t much food, and it was on a strange offshoot of a Dungeon. Not the easiest place to find, let alone inhabit. Even if they showed up, perhaps the spirits would frighten them away.

Owen walked the rest of the way through the cave in silence, brooding over the morning’s events, dwelling on how his life—everything from his parents to his idols to his home—had been turned inside-out. He saw his father evaporate into nothing but a little blue ember, and then be recreated like it was nothing. How old were they? Why did they decide to adopt him? Why did they decide to adopt _anyone_? What if everybody in Amia’s Orb were all past kids? Was there a secret graveyard of Amia’s countless dead children?

Owen shivered. No, that was ridiculous. He’d’ve found something like that. Unless they burned the bodies in the lava river. _Wait! But I play in that river all the time! Was I playing in dead bodies?!_ Owen shook his head furiously. _No. No! Mom’s not like that. Maybe they really are just villagers from an ancient time._ Why would Amia lie with another lie? Owen’s pace wavered. _If I was bathing in dead Pokémon, I’m running away._

 _You already did that,_ Star quipped.

Owen jolted. _H-hey! Don’t do that!_

_Hey, c’mon, I’m bros with your spirits. They’ll let me eavesdrop if they want me to._

_Ugh, eavesdrop silently, please,_ Owen said. _You know what? Can I block you?_

_I’m not telling._

_So I can,_ Owen said, squeezing his eyes tight.

_H-hey, wait! Owen, no fair, I was just—_

Silence. Owen deflated, relieved.

Something was shining ahead. Latching onto anything to distract himself, he quickened his pace.

While the cave rocks in general were still a soft blue even in otherwise complete darkness, this shining was a smidge brighter than the rest. That must’ve been where the Guardian was waiting for him. Still, the darkness unnerved him. Owen wasn’t sure why. His tail swished nervously, and that’s when he realized why. This was the first time in all his life that he was in truly in the dark. His flame was gone, replaced by a useless flower. The Charmeleon pulled his tail around to inspect it. He resented the fact that they were even bigger than before. The daffodil was large enough that he could stick his snout in it.

 _I wish it could glow a little or something,_ Owen thought.

The flower suddenly lit up. “Yeek—!” Owen threw his tail, but the light persisted. He swung it back around. It wasn’t quite as bright as his flame, but it would do. It was, perhaps, the first good thing to happen to him that day.

He then eyed the glow at the end of the tunnel, reminded of why he was there. He was starting to get second thoughts about all this. After enough time walking in silence, and all that walking in the gentle darkness, he wondered if running away was really the best idea. No, of course it wasn’t. Still, they all _lied_ to him! His flower brightened with a flicker of rage, but then dimmed.

No. He got this far. He may as well see it through. Star didn’t protest him actually _seeing_ the Guardian, after all. Perhaps this one was friendly, too, just like Amia and Anam. The Water holder was mere steps away; the Grass-Typed Charmeleon advanced.

It was a large chamber with a rough, rocky floor. If Owen had to make a judgement on the size, it was around the same diameter as Hot Spot Square—at a full sprint, it would take Owen thirty seconds to go all the way across. Now that he thought about it, it might take less time, now that his leg span was so much longer.

Every sound Owen made echoed for what felt like eternity. Self-conscious of his own noises, he tried to walk as carefully as he could. Despite this, the gentle ticking of his claws on rock remained. He gulped, and even _that_ noise echoed for a little while. The silence made his head feel full. There was a _pressure_ about it.

And in this silence, he noticed that one of his steps felt different from the rest. He looked down, letting out a soft churr in curiosity. He inspected the underside of his foot and picked out what appeared to be a large, cream-colored scale. Turning the scale changed its color somewhat, like staring into a prism. It wasn’t whole; it appeared that it had been ripped off prematurely, with a little strip of skin still attached to one side. Owen wrinkled his snout and tossed it away.

There was a circle of water in the middle of this chamber. If Owen threw hard enough, perhaps he’d be able to toss a rock in the middle of it. The water itself was completely still, like a perfect pane of glass. He hesitantly walked forward; he couldn’t see the bottom. He couldn’t find any loose rocks to figure out if it just happened to have a dark base. He was left staring into the void that was this lake.

Where was the Guardian? “Hello…?” Owen called.

Hello, hello, hello. It echoed in all directions, and then faded.

He sat down at the water’s edge. As a Grass Type, he didn’t feel as afraid of the water. It would normally sting quite a bit to get the flame on his tail wet—and there had been a few times when he accidentally extinguished it in the rain, though then his tail just emitted steam. Painfully. But he certainly tried to avoid it—his Fire attacks were next to useless in that sort of weather. But Grass…. How would he do with that? He sighed, but relented. If he was going to become a Fire Type again, he may as well enjoy the novelty of taking a dip in cool water for once. He squatted down and dipped his right leg first, wincing at the chill. He eased his way in until his knees were submerged, but couldn’t go further. The lake’s edge was too steep, and he had no idea how swimming worked.

Owen saw the water ripple near the middle, just once. Nothing had gone inside to disturb the surface other than himself. What was that? “U-uh… is someone there?” he said.

No reply. Owen figured it was just an aftereffect of dipping his legs inside, like the echoes of his voice were ripples in the air. He looked into the black water. He figured the Guardian was watching him from the very bottom. And he knew the spirits were listening in from the walls.

“…I just wanted to talk to someone in my situation,” Owen said softly, closing his eyes. “I just got this… this job, kinda. I touched an Orb that I shouldn’t have, and now I look like this, and I’m being told all these things about being a Guardian, and being involved in this long conspiracy to keep them all protected or whatever. And I just don’t get it.”

His claws gently grasped at the leaves on his knees. He was careful not to tug at them this time.

“And—and turns out, my Mom is the same way. She’s the Fire Guardian… and I dunno what that’s gonna mean, either. The way James—he’s, um, he’s the person who helps run the Thousand Heart Association—and, um, and that’s, like, this group of Pokémon that help rescue others around the world. Yeah… the way James was looking at me—it was like he wanted to send me away.” He winced.

 “James wanted me to be like my Mom, who lived in that cave with just her spirits. I… I didn’t know that’s how it was for her. I think that’s why she almost _never_ goes out. I had this dream—turns out, wasn’t a dream—where we went for a walk in the woods, and we got attacked, just like that. I almost died. But Mom healed me, and I passed out. But is that what it’s like to be a Guardian? To just be… sealed off?”

Owen leaned back, using his hands to prop himself up. He happened to land his right hand on another one of the discarded scales—he felt a soft, fleshy bit on one of the sides and winced, quickly pulling his hand up. Losing support, he fell down, knocking his horn against the rock. “Nggk—!” The ringing in his ears didn’t stop for quite a while. He clutched his forehead with his left hand while inspecting the scale with his right. It had another strip of skin on the edges that had come off with the scale. He tossed it away, but then breathed.

He continued to talk to the air. Even if nobody was listening—and he was sure at least the spirits were listening—it was therapeutic to actually unload his thoughts. There were simply too many to keep inside.

“She’s just alone in that cave. I mean… not _alone_ alone, but her spirits, y’know? And just them… forever, maybe. I can’t imagine what that’d feel like.” He kicked his feet in the water, making more ripples like the one before. “I guess you kinda know what that feels like. If you’re listening, or your spirits. I don’t know if I want that kind of life. But wh-what’s the alternative? I… I could get killed! I didn’t even get to be a Charizard yet…! B-but maybe I never will…” Owen glanced at the flower on his tail. He wondered if it’d hurt to pluck at the petals. He didn’t want to find out.

That thought made another dawn on him. “If you’re the Water Guardian… that must mean you can become your Type, too, right? I got all grassy because of touching the Orb, so maybe that means… you’re all Watery.”

A wave of cold realization struck Owen. He jerked his legs out of the water and pulled himself back with his arms, scrambling to his feet. Water dripped from his lower half. “I’m so sorry!” he said to the lake.

The water rippled. It didn’t stop this time. Instead, it got stronger—most definitely in the middle, now—until something rose out from it. Water, but something that took a shape of its own, something serpentine. It thrust itself from the lake’s center, quickly approaching Owen, who was too surprised to move. The water landed near Owen, coiling around itself, taking a solid form. Its form transitioned from something that was entirely transparent into the normal colors of its species.

The Milotic stared down at Owen with a soft blush. Owen stared back in awe, mouth agape just enough to reveal his lower teeth. She was at least three times’ Owen’s height, even in her current stance.

“H-hello,” Owen greeted.

“Hello,” she said.

There was a silence that lasted seven seconds.

“I—”

“My—”

They had interrupted one another.

“N-no, you go—”

“Please, introduce—”

They both stopped talking again.

Owen fidgeted with his claws; the Milotic’s tail twitched. Her blush had faded.

Owen took a breath; the Water Guardian did not.

“I’m Owen,” the Charmeleon said.

“My name is Zena,” she said. “It is nice to meet you. I am sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“O-oh, no, it’s okay, I—I was kinda just talking to myself anyway, but if you heard that, I mean… that’s good, so I don’t have to repeat myself. Sorry for stepping in you.” He said the last part in a mumble.

Zena nodded. “You do not,” she said. “I’m very… sorry for your fate,” she said, “but you’re right. We have to remain separated in order to keep the power from combining.”

“S-so, as in, it’s dangerous for us to even touch?”

“No—no, nothing like that,” Zena said. “But, should we fight, perhaps, and then the winner extracts the power from the loser, well… we can’t have that.”

“O-oh, okay,” Owen said. “…But… I heard that it’s starting to be dangerous to stay away. W-wait! Um—yesterday, I saw a Torkoal come this way, I think. Is that, um, is that someone you know?”

“He was not,” Zena said. “I dispatched of him.”

“D-dispatched?”

“He was a Hunter,” Zena replied. “They are the ones that we hide from. A Pokémon that intends to find us… and take our power. By _any_ means necessary.”

Owen didn’t ask further. Instead, he looked down at the water, and then at Zena again. “Um… how… how long have you been here?” he asked.

Zena hesitated. “I do not know.”

“H-how long, um—before that Torkoal came, how long has it been since… someone came here? At all?”

She shook her head again.

“Do you at least know Star?”

“I… I do,” she said. “And we talk from time to time, just as I talk with my spirits, I suppose.”

“…But it’s not enough,” he said.

Zena glanced away. “I suppose it isn’t,” she said. “But it’s… it’s still dangerous for us to converse with one another, isn’t it? If a Hunter finds us… they could potentially get _two_ Orbs, not just the one.”

“A-actually, we were thinking, um, that it’s kinda dangerous to be _separated_ , now, because, like, there’s this thing, um, it’s this theory,” Owen trailed off. “Like they can _detect_ us now. They’d pick us off one by one. So instead, maybe strength in numbers?”

“Strength in numbers,” Zena said. “You mentioned that your mother is the Fire Guardian. Is there anybody else?”

“Association Head Anam—he’s another Guardian. I don’t think I caught what Type.”

“I see,” Zena said slowly. She was quiet, mulling over Owen’s words. The Grass Guardian, meanwhile, took the time to look over Zena again. The way her scales reflected the dim light—and in particular, the way she glowed in the same way the Hot Spot mushrooms did. Bitterly, Owen realized that the glow he’d been so accustomed to was no doubt a reflection of his mother’s Guardianship. But he couldn’t deny how comforting the light was, so he gazed a while longer at Zena’s scales.

“…Why are you looking at me in that way?” Zena asked.

“Sorry!” Owen’s entire body stiffened upright; even his tail stood alert.

She glared at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Hmph!” Zena turned her head away.

“N-no, it’s not like that!” Owen waved his claws in front of him. “I didn’t think you were pretty! I—I mean, wait, _wait_ , you _are_ pretty! But—but I—”

“You’d best choose your next words carefully,” Zena hissed.

“I like your glow!” Owen blurted.

Zena flinched.

Owen covered his mouth. “I—I mean… you…” he hesitated, bringing his arms down. “C’mon, I mean, you’re a Milotic. You guys are just naturally really pretty. And that whole Guardian glow you have going on in these caves really makes it look nice, and stuff.”

Five seconds passed with just Owen’s echoing voice filling the void.

“W-well,” Zena said, looking at the wall. “Thank you.”

Owen shifted awkwardly, looking at Zena again. This time, he looked her tail over, how the creamy, prismatic scales transitioned into stained glass that Owen would have expected from a temple for Arceus. Owen sensed another glare and immediately brought his head down. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I only saw your kind in books before.”

“Books?” Zena repeated. Her eyes narrowed again. “What _kind_ of—" But then, suddenly, the Milotic jerked her head up, startling Owen with the sudden movement. “Another Hunter is coming,” she said.

“Wh-what?”

“Yes. We need to go,” she said.

“Go?”

“If you want strength in numbers, then—then I’ll humor you,” she said. “But we need to hide. The tunnel,” she pointed with one of her eyebrows at the dark lake. “It leads to a river outside. Can you swim?”

“I kinda used to be a Fire Type.”

“Then I will be the current that guides you,” she said. “Please, get in.”

She slithered into the lake and vanished, melting into the water. Owen’s old instincts were telling him to stay as far away from the water as possible—especially for a swim—but he knew he’d be fine in this current, Grassy form. His tail glowed brightly.

“If you say so,” Owen said. He jumped in, expecting a frightening sting, but instead, it merely felt cold. He held his breath and felt the water rush around him. It was pushing him down, deeper into the tunnel; the water pressure wasn’t that bad, either. It seemed like Zena was pushing against the rest of the water, making it a little easier on his body.

At first, it seemed like he’d have an easy time going through. His lungs felt a bit of strain—he’d never held his breath for very long in the past—but hopefully Zena would keep him going.

But then, Owen felt a rush of heat in his chest. He glanced down; his green, leafy scales were solidifying, becoming yellower. His arms were turning red.

Rhys said he’d go back to normal eventually.

 _Why now?!_ He looked behind him; the flower on his tail was wilting. Bubbles of steam were coming out from the burning bud. The water was starting to feel less pleasant. And it wasn’t getting any easier to hold his breath, either. _No, no! Just a little longer…! C’mon!_

He couldn’t hold his breath for much longer. He couldn’t see anything in these tunnels—it was too dark. His flower wasn’t glowing anymore, and his flame was slowly coming back.

Pressure built in his chest. The need to breathe was too strong. In an effort to relieve some of that pressure, Owen puffed out, releasing some of the air. That only made him want to breathe in again. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to warn Zena that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Zena, the water, could not respond, but the water _did_ rush faster. Owen had to close his eyes—the pressure against his face was too much.

He felt it. He was a Fire Type again. He felt the horrible sting of near-freezing water around his whole body, like acid, particularly against his tail. He also felt his lungs give way—and in a sharp intake, water filled his chest. The shock made Owen pass out.

 

Owen was floating in a black void, on his back. His lungs felt… tight. Like he couldn’t move them. Voices filled his head. They felt like memories from long ago. Forgotten.

“Who’re you gonna fight, Owen?”

Owen’s mouth moved in the darkness. He spoke, despite his lungs being filled with water. “Gonna fight… Demitri….”

“Baah, always Demitri. How about Mispy?”

“No way…” Owen said. “She’ll kill me…”

“But she’s a Grass Type, c’mon!”

“Gahi, she’ll kill me. That Solarbeam… is insane…”

“Feh, then why don’t yeh fly and make it easier ter dodge?”

 

Owen gasped and opened his eyes. “Solarbeam,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” Zena turned back. “Oh, you’re finally awake.”

The sun was setting. It was starting to get colder. They were near a river, but closer to the ocean. There was a beach further down, where the grass transitioned into sand, with Wingull circling over the shore line. The air was salty. Owen sat up—his entire body ached.

“Ugh… what happened?”

“You drowned,” Zena said. “I was waiting for your body to recover.”

“D-drowned?!” Owen said. “Why didn’t you—w-wait, did you—” his face flushed.

“Did I what?” Zena asked. “I waited for your body to fix itself.”

“Th-the body doesn’t _fix_ drowning!” Owen said.

“For a Guardian, it does,” Zena said. “I set you down once we escaped, and waited for your heart to start beating again—”

“MY HEART STOPPED?!”

Zena, annoyed, said, “Yes. Is this truly that new to you?”

“K-kinda! I feel like I should be dead right about now!”

“So long as their body remains mostly intact,” Zena said, “Guardians can live and recover from any injury. It’s known as being Mystic.”

“Mystic,” Owen slowly repeated. “So, all Guardians are Mystic?”

“Yes,” Zena said.

“But, that’s the same thing, then. What other things are Mystic?”

“Well, I imagine Star is Mystic, even if she guards no particular Orb. The Hunters are also Mystic, though I wouldn’t consider them Guardians.”

“O-oh,” Owen said. “Okay. So, just people who have power related to the Orbs.” He looked at his claws. He still felt… soggy. But at least he could breathe again. Something felt different, too. He felt _stronger_. Maybe that was just how his flame burned a bit hotter as a Charmeleon.

“You mentioned… Solarbeam,” Zena said.

“Huh? Solarbeam?” he asked.

“When you woke up. Were you trying to learn Solarbeam? After all, you’re the Grass Guardian.”

“Oh, uh, no, I…” He rubbed his head. “I can’t remember. I must’ve been having some kind of weird dream from bad oxygen. It happened before. I was climbing a mountain with one of the Elite Hearts, and when I meditated there, I had a crazy dream, too. Ugh, that’s two times that I got a weird dream. I need a break.”

Zena smiled slightly. “Today has had the most talking I’ve ever heard from a stranger in a very long time,” she said. “You’re quite chatty.”

Owen looked down. “Sorry.”

Zena tilted her head. “I meant I enjoy it. You apologize quite often, too.”

“Oh.” Owen tried to think of something else to talk about, but his mind drew a blank. He considered talking about the weather, but decided against it.

“Owen… do you know where we are?”

“Um, well… the sun’s setting that way… so I think we’re at a southern beach, right?” He turned around. “So that means… the Thousand Heart Association is—there! Look, d’you see that mountain with the flat top?” he said, pointing up. It was hard to see past the southern forest, but the distinct, black rocks of Kilo Mountain were clearly visible through the gaps.

“Yes. That was there even before I began my hiding…. Has anything changed about it?”

“That’s Kilo Village at the top, in the crater. The volcano is extinct and, uh… yeah. That’s where I go for rescue missions and things like that. I bet Anam will know what to do!”

“Anam…” Zena said. “He’s another Guardian? Star mentioned him before. But she doesn’t talk a lot about the other Guardians—I think it’s to… keep us from wanting to meet them in person. But, Owen, I’m… not sure. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Don’t know what?” Owen asked.

“If it’s a good idea to go there,” she said. “The Orbs. They’re supposed to….”

“Not anymore. C’mon, let’s just go!” Owen said.

“I…. But what would I say? How much has changed?”

Owen hesitated. “I dunno, but it should be fine! C’mon, I can show you around.”

Zena hesitated, looking at the Charmeleon. “How are you so sure?” she said. The Milotic curled her long body, tensing her muscles. She waited for a response that would assure her.

“Because,” he trailed off. “I mean, well…”

“Did you not just rant about how everything you know has been a great lie?” Zena asked. “I believe you used similar terminology.”

“Y-yeah, but, only some, not _everything_ ….”

“But didn’t some of that _everything_ happen to be your own parents, and your idols?” Zena said.

“…Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi didn’t know, either,” Owen said. “I trust them. And… and Rhys is the one who wants the Guardians to stay together, too.”

Zena blinked. “What was his name? Rhys?” he said.

“Yeah, Rhys,” Owen said. “What?”

“Lucario Rhys?” Zena said.

“H-huh? Yeah.”

“We are not going to Kilo Village,” Zena said.

“W-wait, but why—”

“Rhys is one of the Hunters.”


	11. The Hunters' Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen uncovers more lies about his idol's past. Rhys lays bare his secrets and simultaneously abandons his old past, much to the surprise of an old victim.

“But… but Rhys is cool,” Owen said.

The Charmeleon had stopped walking the moment Zena told him that Rhys was a Hunter. It simply didn’t make sense. No… no, it did. It added up. But it didn’t make sense to Owen _anyway_. Rhys was too noble. He was an Elite Heart. How could he be a murderer, too?

“That Lucario is the one who nearly killed me,” Zena said. “ _He_ is the reason I spent _lifetimes_ sealed away.” Her tail twitched, flexing the fan at the tip.

“But… but he gave me the Orb! I mean, he didn’t—I mean, he was holding the Orb, but he never claimed it, and, um, and also, like—when I took it, he didn’t want to hurt me at all! M-maybe you’re thinking of his great grandfather or something? Like, Rhys is just a really strong Lucario. He’s not a Guardian or anything. He doesn’t glow! So, he _can’t_ be, um, un-aging and stuff like us.” Nevren had said that they didn’t age for another reason. Was _that_ because—

“Hunters don’t age,” Zena said. “He could easily be the same Lucario.” She coiled around herself a bit tighter, staring intensely at Owen. “Tell me. Did he specialize in aural attacks?”

“I—I mean, what Lucario doesn’t, right?” Owen tittered nervously. He shrank before the serpent. He knew that Zena could see the helpless defiance in his eyes.

The Milotic did not break her stare. “Are you sure?” she said. “Do you truly believe that Rhys won’t harm you, should you appear before him now?”

Owen gulped, looking at his chest. He was glad to be back to his fiery self again. It felt _right._ But would Rhys try to kill him? That Lucario…. He was stern, certainly. And perhaps he’d punish him with more meditation, or something like that. Perhaps, as well, he was a bit too harsh with his training regimen. But… he simply couldn’t imagine Rhys wanting to hurt him. Something at the very core of his being was telling him that he could trust Rhys. But at the same time, why did he feel that way? He just met him, didn’t he?

“I don’t know,” Owen said. “I feel like I can trust him! But at the same time, he could… if he wanted, he could easily… couldn’t he? Well, I feel like he’d just force me to meditate, like he always di—” Owen blinked a few times. What? When did Rhys ever force him to meditate? That never happened. That was Demitri and the others. He grew up with Amia and Alex—his adoptive parents. _They_ were the ones who—

“Owen? Are you okay?” Zena asked, tilting her head.

“H-huh? Oh. I’m fine. Um… b-but I really… I don’t know! If you’re with me, maybe he’ll hear me out, and not attack you? If he’s still like that? No… I—he’s too nice. If he wanted to, he could’ve killed me right at the beginning, when I first got the Orb!”

“Regardless of his actions before,” Zena said, “he may have second thoughts. He is still a Hunter, and it is their very _purpose_ to track down and gather the Orbs at all costs. And right now, we are two Guardians, possessing two Orbs. That may be an opportunity too tempting to ignore.”

Owen played with the scales at the base of his claws. Zena had a point. Why would Rhys be chasing after them in the first place? Why _Rhys_ specifically, if he knew that this would be the Water Guardian? But Owen’s gut still told him that Rhys was safe. He never sensed any ounce of malice in his body language. He was good at spotting those things, for as long as he could remember! But… what if Zena was right? What if he got _tempted_? What if that malice… came back?

Owen’s legs felt weak. He walked to a nearby, sandy rock and sat against it. Waves washed upon the shoreline two times before he spoke again. “Rhys… could kill me…”

“He very well could,” Zena said. She slithered a bit closer, but hesitated to get within arm’s reach of him. “And you aren’t nearly strong enough to defend yourself against him.”

“But… b-but he’s my… I trusted him,” Owen said. “There’s no way he’d....!”

“Are you willing to risk your life to see if you are correct?” Zena said.

The ocean brushed against the sand. Owen smelled the salt in the air. Wingull squawked at one another, bickering over a carcass. He clenched the claws of his feet a few times in the sandy grass. He felt hot. His face, especially. His chest hurt. Something in the back of his eyes burned. His vision blurred. The Charmeleon trembled, clawing at his knees. “Everyone I knew…”

“Owen…” Zena said softly. She finally broke past her hesitation and slithered even closer. She used a brow to rub his head. “It’s okay. It’s… okay. Even if Rhys is dangerous, the others are still your friends. And your mother, Owen. What Charizard would harm their own child?”

“Um, a-actually, my Mom’s a Gardevoir… I don’t know my real parents.”

“Oh, I’m—”

Owen shook his head. “But either way, it’s… it’s all the same. You’re right. There’s no way she’d want to hurt me. She raised me! She—” Owen’s heart skipped a beat. “Mom! She’s with Rhys…! And she’s a Guardian!” He sprung to his feet, as if that action would somehow give him an idea on what to do next.

He felt a strange tingling on the scales on his back. The air felt… _sharp_ , like it cut into his lungs, and a sinking feeling twisted his stomach into a knot. What was this _power_ that he could feel? He’d never had such a sensation before. He was used to having a vague sense of what was around the corner, or even in the other room. But this? This was new.

At the same time, Zena stared toward Kilo Mountain. “He’s coming,” she said. “How did he know we were here? Who could have…?”

Owen realized that what he was sensing was something Zena sensed, too. He closed his eyes. He heard the rapid footsteps of something bipedal. He recognized the pattern--it was Rhys, without a doubt. He also heard another sound, a lot more rapid, with smaller legs. Hard knocking on sandy dirt. Angry chittering. That pattern was equally familiar. It was a Trapinch, going much faster than it should for its species. “Gahi, too,” Owen said.

Zena coiled around herself, preparing to launch everything she had at the incoming duo.

“D-don’t hurt Gahi. He’s a Trapinch, and he’s—he’s not involved in any of this!”

Zena said nothing, but she was clearly aiming for Rhys. Owen turned toward the source of the sound again. Louder. He only had a few seconds to react. Was this really Rhys attempting to kill them? Why would he chase them all the way down here? Why couldn’t he hear his mother’s running pattern? Because she wasn’t there. It was just Rhys and Gahi.

“Owen!” Rhys shouted, jumping between two trees, into plain view.

Zena fired. The beam of water was simultaneously wide and dense, and it was a perfect shot. Rhys held his paws forward with an Aura Sphere-like shield to deflect the blast. Gahi, trailing behind, dove behind a tree to avoid the scattered beams of water, shouting something angrily. When the Hydro Pump stopped, and the mist faded, Rhys remained. Zena’s attack was completely neutralized by the shield.

Gahi stared in horror at the gaping hole left in the tree that he’d been hiding behind. The deflected beams had missed him by only a head’s length.

For that one instant, the world stood still for Owen. It all clicked in his mind at once. He felt Zena’s coils wind in defensive terror beside him. Almost out of empathy, his muscles tensed in a similar way. His heart was pounding against his neck. Rhys had deflected one of the most powerful attacks Owen had ever seen.

He had been ready for that attack. He was expecting it. He _knew._ Owen’s claws dug into his palms; his tail blazed with a shining, green flame.

The last of the mist faded. Zena’s words echoed in his thoughts.

_Rhys is one of the Hunters._

The Lucario let out a pant. “Owen, I—”

The Charmeleon opened with a plume of fire. It was easily blocked, but Owen followed up by lunging forward. He wasn’t using words anymore, just roars and grunts. Rhys deftly blocked every hit with little pulses of aura from his paws, stepping backwards with each lunge Owen made.

“Owen, enough!” Rhys said.

“You—what did you do—what did you do to Mom?!” Owen shouted.

“Your mother?! What in the _world_ do you mean?!”

Owen roared and blasted Rhys with fire, point-blank. He couldn’t deflect this one, and his upper body was briefly alight. This was too much for Rhys to tolerate. With a single blow and a grunt of anger, Rhys swiped his paw toward Owen and created a small sphere on his side. It exploded, and blasting Owen with a shockwave of aural force. He slammed into a tree and cried in pain when his left shoulder dislocated itself, and his left leg broke in two places. A few ribs probably got fractured, too. There was a large welt on his right side where the aura had exploded, and some scales had been blasted off, too. He crumpled to the ground; it hurt too much to move.

Zena spewed another beam of water at Rhys, but the Hunter jumped to the right in a blue blur. Zena blinked and lost track of him. She turned toward Owen and saw Rhys there instead, kneeling down. Rhys’ eyes were narrowed with concern.

“You won’t!” Zena shouted. “Get away from him! Or I’ll fire again! I won’t miss!”

“If you _do_ miss, you will hit Owen,” Rhys said calmly. He didn’t even react to her.

“It’s… it’s a risk I’ll take to stop you, you—murderer!”

“Murderer,” Rhys repeated softly. He inspected Owen, who only glared. Flames danced out of his mouth. “Your mother is worried about you, Owen. Your father, too.”

“You’re a Hunter…” Owen said. “Zena… Zena told me! You… you killed Guardians like me!”

“Owen,” Rhys said, closing his eyes. “If I wanted to kill, then you two would already be dead.”

“N-no way!” Owen said. “I’d totally beat you if… if I wanted to! I’m a Guardian! I survived drowning!”

“Drowning,” Rhys said with a snort. “You took a quarter of the day, I imagine, just to recover from that. Do you _really_ think a Hunter would kill a Guardian by _drowning_ them?”

Owen gulped. “Y-yeah, well, I bet I could survive… a lot of things, now.” His eyes darted to the left and right, searching for some sort of opening. Owen focused on a tree behind Rhys. The Lucario followed his gaze—just what Owen wanted. He spewed a wad of fire at Rhys the moment he looked away. In a single, deft motion, Rhys brought his arm up and blocked the blast with another aural shield.

Owen flinched, and Rhys looked at him with a knowing glare. Owen had no escape.

“You cannot survive much,” Rhys said. “Divine energy from the Orb sustains you, even if your very heart stops. However, great injury to your body disrupts that flow. If someone wished to kill you… they would. And they _can_. Just because you are Mystic does not mean you are invincible. Look at you, Owen.” He shook his head. “A body half broken already. If I aimed for your _head_ ,” he pointed out, “the Grass Orb would be without a host once more.”

Owen envisioned Rhys doing just that. Moving his paw just a bit further up. He would’ve been headless. Just like that. He thought back to the Aerodactyl. He _still_ would have been paralyzed from the waist down from his strikes. And if he was rejected from the Dungeon, some opportunistic wild Pokémon _still_ could have feasted on his unconscious body.

Owen’s sense of mortality returned to him. When that happened, the Charmeleon thought his heart had stopped again.

“You can’t even stand.”

“I can totally stand!” Owen used his good arm and clawed at the air in front of Rhys.

Rhys waited.

He kept clawing and tried to sit up. In the end, he couldn’t. The most he could do was prop himself up. His arm trembled, and he fell again.

Gahi waddled out from the tree he’d been hiding in. “Lighten up, Char,” Gahi said. “Yer beat. And you! Pretty lady! You calm down, too! Rhys ain’t gonna hurt anybody.”

“P-pretty lady?” Zena flushed red.

“Can you stand, Owen?” Rhys asked again. Despite his neutral tone, Owen sensed that he was mocking him.

“Nrgh.” Owen’s tail twitched. “I don’t feel like it.” He exhaled a defeated plume of smoke. It tasted like roasted seeds.

Rhys sighed and looked up at the trees. He inspected the tops, and then looked at Zena. She didn’t take her eyes off of him, waiting for any sudden movements. Rhys, recognizing this, moved slowly, gently, raising his arm to point up. Zena didn’t change her focus. Right at Rhys.

“There is a ripe Oran Berry in the trees. I intend to harvest it for Owen. Milotic Zena, will you allow me to do this?”

“You will move slowly,” Zena said.

Rhys obeyed. Every step was deliberate, and he pointed the pad of his paw toward the berry. The tiniest of Aura Spheres appeared there, and he fired, knocking it off of the tree. It landed nearby. Rhys took step after deliberate step toward the berry, and then leaned down to pick it up.

At this point, Gahi was shaking with impatience, pacing in a rapid circle nearby. He mumbled something about being able to do this seven times by the time Rhys finished once.

Finally, Rhys returned to Owen and handed him the berry.

“How can a berry help him?” Zena said. “They’re a pick-me-up. They only provide energy, as all food would. Oran Berries are useless for injuries like that.”

Owen glanced at Zena confusedly.

“Is—is it not?” Zena asked.

Owen grabbed the berry and took a bite, chewing awkwardly while lying on the ground. A soft glow flowed from Owen’s throat to the rest of his body, barely visible if it wasn’t for the darkness of twilight.

“Hold still,” Rhys said. With a firm push, he snapped Owen’s arm back into its socket, eliciting a loud, suppressed grunt from the Charmeleon. He then moved to his broken leg. “Are you ready, Owen?”

Owen whimpered.

“I’ll do it on three. One—” Rhys snapped them in place. Owen didn’t cry out that time; his eyes watered, and he grit his teeth, but the most noise that came was from the air rapidly moving through his nostrils.

“Thank you,” he said in a high-pitched voice.

“Eat your berry.”

Owen awkwardly ate at the berry using his good arm, still lying on the ground. A glow emanated from his throat that was only visible due to the darkness of twilight. It pulsed throughout the rest of his body—while bruised, Owen felt much better. Bones repaired themselves; he felt like he could breathe deeply again. He sighed and deflated after the final bite, idly licking at his claws.

 “Oran Berries have been greatly enhanced since your time, Zena,” Rhys said. “They have been blessed by Association Head Goodra Anam, who doubles as a sort of… priest, if you will. Most Oran Berries you see in the world today carry that blessing. This is especially true for content found in Dungeons, which have, too, been blessed. Prior, they were much less welcoming.”

“Blessing,” Zena repeated. “Priest. What sort of cult do you run?”

“It’s not much of a cult if you can see actual results, now is it?” Rhys asked, motioning to the fiery Grass Guardian. “For smaller Pokémon like Owen, a single berry is enough to fully restore them to fighting health.”

Owen grunted and stood up. He didn’t know what to think anymore. He’d gone past the panic and despair and slipped into frustration and anger again. The same anger that made him yell at Zena’s spirits. Even if he was healed, his older thoughts returned to him, now that he no longer feared for his life. He glared at Rhys. “Who are you?”

“...I am Lucario Rhys, Elite Heart of Kilo Village. I am a _former_ Hunter of the Guardians.” Rhys looked to Zena. “Owen is very good at detecting lies and malevolence. He is very in-tune with body language, and he knows if I intend to strike him, even if it is as a surprise. Owen, do you sense _anything_ from me that suggests I would want to hurt you?”

Owen looked up. He could feel it, yes. He didn’t know it was some sort of _talent_ of his, but he was always very _aware_ of his surroundings, including those close to him. And he could sense Rhys’ paw twitching irritably. His muscles were tense from the battle. His brow was furrowed with hidden impatience, invisible thanks to his fur, but the tension was there.

Rhys _did_ want to hurt him… but not in the way Zena thinks. No. Rhys was holding himself back from smacking him on the head. He could imagine Rhys telling him to stop acting so immaturely, so rashly, so childishly. He wanted him to be a proper Heart. He could hear the lecture about how, had this been done on a mission, innocents could get hurt, or worse.

Owen finally straightened, but then brought his head down. He rubbed his nose with his arm.

Zena’s eyes softened, just barely. “Very well. But do not think you’ve convinced me, Hunter.”

“Great, great, that’s all nice and good,” Gahi said, clicking his jaws to get their attention. “But as yeh may’ve noticed, it’s pretty much twilight at this point, and I’m tired, and I haven’t had dinner yet, and maybe we can get this rolling along? Oy, Rhys, y’got yer Badge? I wanna go back ter Kilo. I hate rivers, and I hate oceans. I’d rather get eaten than drown someplace like this. We gonna go?”

“Why did even come, then?” Rhys said in a hiss that was only half-controlled.

“Well, yeh had that story about Mystics an’ all that ter tell me on the way,” Gahi said. “Was the first story yeh ever told that wasn’t boring.”

Owen sensed Rhys wanted to hit Gahi, too. The left half of his lips twitched upward, and he couldn’t hide his brightening flame. He shook his head to keep composed and looked to the Water Guardan.

“Zena…” Owen said. “Even if Rhys is a Hunter… I mean, there’s no way Goodra Anam would allow him to do anything. If we go to Kilo Village, we’ll be safe. And I think Anam is way stronger than Rhys is.”

“Perhaps not _way_ stronger,” Rhys growled. He looked at Gahi. “Very well. I have the Badge. If Zena will allow me to look through my supplies, I will get it.”

“You may,” Zena said slowly. “But if I am to follow, expect me to be ten paces behind you. I refuse to walk beside the likes of _you_.”

Rhys winced. But Owen also sensed a tension in Rhys’ throat, too. Owen gently rubbed at his own, trying to get an idea of what the feeling was supposed to be. The Charmeleon realized then that Rhys had a figurative _lump_ in his throat.

“...What’s a pace fer you?” Gahi said, observing her lack of limbs.

The Milotic glared.

“Feh.” Gahi shuffled behind Owen. He tried to be casual, but Owen noticed his tremble.

Rhys pulled out the Association Badge.

“...And that will help us home, how?” Zena asked.

“It’ll bring us back to town,” Owen said. “It can only really bring back four people at a time or so. We usually bring more Badges in case we have to rescue a bunch at once, so then we can still get back ourselves.” Owen recalled what he’d read about the Badges functionality and limits. “You can key it in to other locations to warp to if you configure it while you’re there, but by default, if you just tap the little heart button in the middle once, you’ll go to the Central Waypoint. Easy. I’d’ve set my new Badge to go to Hot Spot Cave, but… it’s been a really hectic few days lately…”

“Oh?” Zena said. “…What’s a Waypoint?”

“Oh, wow,” Owen said. “You _have_ been gone for a while. Um… it’s… this thing where you have to stand on it, and then once you do, it will activate, and then you’ll go to its corresponding tile somewhere else in the world—so, in this case, the one in Kilo Village. Nevren invented it.” Owen looked at the Badge. “This Badge has the same sort of energy. It’s weaker, and it has to recharge… but it is tied to the Waypoints or other areas you register with it.”

“I see…” Zena said. “Waypoints can be used as much as we want, but they’re stuck at two specific locations. But these Badges can be used anywhere, but require energy. What an interesting system…. Very well. If you are confident in this… thing, I will put my faith in _you_ , Owen.”

Owen caught a twitch of irritation from Rhys, but he figured he deserved that one.

“Owen,” Rhys said, “why don’t you use it?”

Owen nodded, took the Badge, and thrust it in the air. He clicked the button once. In a split-second, they reappeared in Kilo Village, just in time to see a small team, led by Anam, heading for Calm Water Lake’s Waypoint. The others accompanying him were Decidueye James and Alakazam Nevren.

“Whoa, wait! L-look!” Anam said, pointing.

“H-hi, guys!” Owen hesitated. In the rush of events, he finally remembered what had happened. Wasn’t he supposed to be angry at them? But, now that he had time to think… “I’m… I’m sorry for running off,” he said. “I just—I wanted to clear my head, and—”

Zena stared, wide-eyed, at the countless buildings that surrounded her. Owen was glad they came when there weren’t any Pokémon passing by, or the isolated Milotic would have been completely overwhelmed.

“A-and this is Zena! She’s, um, she’s the Water Guardian.”

Zena tensed and looked away. “H-h-hel…” she said.

“Hi, Zena!” Anam waved. “It’s good to meet you!”

 “Ahh, the Water Guardian, I see,” Nevren said. He stepped forward and held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zena. I am sorry if this is beyond your favored conditions.”

“Y-yes, thank…” Zena held out an eyebrow for him to shake.

“Zena, are you okay?” Owen asked.

“Give her time, Owen,” Nevren said. “She has not spoken to so many strangers in a very long while, I imagine. This will take time to adjust.”

“She spoke just fine with Rhys…” Owen said. But he wondered if it was easier for her to yell at someone she hated than to talk to someone new. Didn’t explain why she spoke so easily with _him_ , however. Owen figured it was because he was just one little Charmeleon, and this was a gang of elites and Gahi.

“Owen!” Demitri shouted from the top of the Heart stairway. “H-hey! You’re back to normal!”

Mispy was next to Demitri, and both of them rushed down to meet with the rest of their team.

“Yeah, so much fer being funny ter look at,” Gahi said. “How’s it feel ter be Fire again, anyway?”

“ _Good_ ,” Owen said immediately.

Mispy glared.

“S-so,” Owen avoided Mispy’s eyes, “how did… Rhys find us?”

“He ran ahead ter get yeh,” Gahi said. “Said he knew where yeh’d be. Maybe he sensed yer Mystic aura, y’know?”

“I am familiar with the underwater channel that Zena used,” Rhys said. “Once I figured out where you had gone, I decided to follow you there. Unfortunately, there isn’t a Waypoint designated to that part of the southern shoreline, as no Dungeon has formed in that location yet. I had to go on foot. Gahi was the only one who could realistically keep up.”

“O-oh,” Owen thought about what Zena had said. A Hunter had been chasing after them. Did Rhys chase her through those channels before? What stopped him from…?

Zena looked at Anam. By his species name, she knew he was the leader. “You… I’d… like to introduce myself,” she said. “And… to your spirit.”

“Oh!” Anam said. “Yeah! I’m Anam, and this is James! He worked with me for a long time, but when he eventually got too old, I brought him back as a spirit assistant!”

Owen squinted slightly. Anam sounded odd when he said that. Did anybody else notice? He glanced at Rhys. _He_ noticed. But he didn’t say anything. It must have been nothing. Anam wasn’t the sort to lie, after all.

“Yes,” James said, nodding. “Ah, and Owen, your parents are very worried about you. I will fetch them.” He sank into the ground.

A brief, awkward silence filled the air. It was only broken when Anam said, “Wait! So… so that means right now, in this town… we have _four_ of the Guardians in one place!”

“F-four…” Zena said, realizing this. “Water, Grass, and…?”

“Fire’s my Mom,” Owen said.

“And I’m the Ghost Guardian!” Anam said.

“Four of us, all in one place,” Zena remarked. “Isn’t that a bit worrying?”

“Not anymore,” Anam said. “I think we’re going to be changing strategies.”

Nevren nodded. “Yes. It appears that the remaining Hunters have discovered a means of tracking the auras of Guardians with great precision, so we must now dedicate ourselves to gathering, rather than separating, the power before the Hunters do the same.”

“Hmm,” Zena looked at Nevren carefully. “You… give off a strange aura as well,” she said.

“Y-yes, well… that is…”

“Nevren,” Owen said, crossing his arms. “I’m really sensitive to secrets right now, and I just… I just don’t want to deal with it. Just tell me now so we can get it over with. And I think this Mystic power is making my perception go on overdrive, and I think I hate it? Because I’m feeling _all_ the lies pouring from you guys. It’s disgusting. Just… tell the truth.”

Anam nibbled nervously on his fingers.

Nevren shook his head, eyes closed. “Very well,” he said. “It’s not much of a secret to others, but I used to be an active Hunter as well, yes. A… researcher; I was not much for fighting.”

Owen expected this, the way Rhys was so familiar with him. “Are there any other Elites or, like… anybody else here in the Hearts that are former Hunters?”

Nevren shook his head. “Of the Hearts, only Rhys and I are affiliated,” he said.

“Okay, just—what’s the point?” Owen said. “What’s the whole point of the Hunters? Why are you guys around for so long if you don’t have any Orbs to keep you alive? How many of you _are_ there, and…?”

“Perhaps,” Rhys said, “this is something that we should discuss in private.”

Anam nodded. “Mhm. The night crowd is gonna come soon, and I don’t want them to overhear anything. Let’s go to my office!”

Everyone agreed, though Zena trailed behind, as promised. Ten paces. In this case, those were ten intervals of Zena’s weaving, slithering motions. The walk was a long one—it felt longer than usual. And Owen sensed it again. Rhys’ tension. But this was a different tension…. Owen shook his head. He hated feeling these things. He tried to dull it. By some miracle, it worked. Owen sighed in relief; no longer burdened by the senses for now, he focused on the building.

Rhys glanced back at Zena. Owen did his best to ignore it, but those glances were becoming very frequent. He wasn’t getting tempted, was he? Was Nevren stronger than Rhys? No, he said he wasn’t a fighter. And what about Anam? Surely he could handle Rhys. Then again, Owen never actually saw the Goodra _fight_ before. In fact, if the rumors were true, he usually just hugged outlaws into submission.

And then, suddenly, Rhys stopped walking. This was enough to put Zena on guard again—along with all the others. The lingering knot in Owen’s stomach redoubled. Couldn’t this day just end?

Rhys turned around and collapsed to a kneel. “I… apologize,” he said simply. “Do to me as you wish.”

“Eh—” Gahi said.

“Wh—” Owen shook his head.

“Rh-Rhys?” Anam asked.

“Hm.” Nevren watched.

Zena stared at Rhys. Her glare, for just an instant, wavered. Rhys was stiff, waiting for something to come.

“Rhys…?” Owen said. “What’s… this coming from?” Owen knew this was a dumb thing to ask. After all, Rhys was once after her life, all for the Orb. He made her live in fear. He realized what that lump in his throat was for, now. How long had this been eating away at Rhys?

“Look at me, Hunter,” Zena said.

Rhys slowly lifted his head. His eyes were steely, true to his Type. But there was a glint of vulnerability in his pupils that Owen hadn’t seen before. He bit at his lip. He wished he hadn’t seen Rhys in such a state. His vision of a noble Elite Heart, undaunted by any challenge, evaporated completely with the day’s light.

Zena brought one of her brows forward like a hand. “Lucario Rhys. I have seen your actions today, and they are completely unlike those that I would expect of the Lucario that tried to kill me all those centuries ago. So, I ask… do you truly regret what you’ve done?”

“Yes.” Rhys didn’t hesitate for even an iota of time.

They stared at one another. Rhys’ eyes were firm. Zena’s were piercing.

“You’ll never take another Orb again?”

“Not unless it is to take it from another Hunter,” Rhys said.

“You shall never harm a Guardian again?”

“I have no intention of ever continuing my mission,” Rhys said.

Zena held out her brow further. “Then, Rhys,” she said, “if you _truly_ think that way… will you make that a Divine Promise?”

Nevren almost flinched, but he turned it into a blinking fit.

Rhys stared at the brow.

Owen wanted to ask what a Divine Promise was, but he didn’t want to break the silence. He felt that, if he did, everything in the whole world would have shattered. Everybody, from Anam to Gahi, focused on Zena’s outstretched, pink ribbon. There was a soft glow coming from the end that reflected off of Rhys’ eyes.

The Lucario held out his paw. Nevren looked like he was going to faint. Even Zena was surprised, eyes widening, grace faltering.

“I hereby Promise to never follow my role as a Hunter again,” he said. “Do you agree to these terms?”

“I…” she said, and then ran his words again. “You Promise, then, that you’ll never act as a Hunter again? To never kill a Guardian to extract their Orb? To go against your very _purpose_?”

“I Promise this. Do you agree?” Rhys said.

Silence. A wad of slime fell from Anam’s arm, making a soft, wet plop on the stone path.

“Th-this is a trick,” Zena said, pulling her ribbon back.

Impatiently, Rhys grabbed her brow firmly. “I Promise to abandon my mission as a Hunter. _Do you agree_?” he asked.

“You… you can’t be serious….” the Milotic said.

Rhys didn’t let go.

Seizing the opportunity, she continued, “I—I a—I agree.”

There was a strange flash of golden light between her brow and Rhys’ paw… and that was it. Zena, just as surprised and confused as Owen was, looked at Anam. “We… we can keep going. To your office.”

Anam nibbled on his slimy fingers again. “O-okay.”


	12. Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Star plans with the other Mystics and affiliated pokemon on where they should go next to bring together the Guardians of the world.

Everybody settled in Anam’s little office. The Goodra sat in the pond in the back of the room; all of the others sat in simple nests of hay that James had materialized from the shadows, except for Zena, who coiled around herself, next to Owen. On Owen’s other side was his mother—who refused to keep her hand off of the Charmeleon’s arm, holding firmly—and next to her, Alex.

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were all huddled near Owen, all on the same makeshift nest. They were jealously eying his new, Charmeleon form. Owen, noticing this, gave a teasing little smirk—he won that little game and, surely, he’ll hit his final form first, too. Nevren, Rhys, and James sat near Anam, though they were careful to not get too close. Anam tended to get in a grabby, cuddly mood at night, and the last thing they needed was to get covered in his slime.

“Well,” James said. “Rhys, perhaps it is appropriate for you to explain… _yourself_ to those who are not aware.”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I… believe it is appropriate,” he said. He looked at the others—particularly at Zena, and then Owen, and finally, his students. “Nevren and I… are two of the five Hunters. Our purpose was to gather all of the Orbs into one being. We were meant to use this power to challenge Arceus, as we deemed him an improper god.”

It took nearly ten seconds for Owen to fully process those three sentences; he didn’t even react when Zena spoke first.

“Wh-what do you mean, challenge Arceus? Is _that_ the power that these Orbs possess?” Zena asked. “Why in the world would Arceus _allow_ such a thing to exist?”

“Because he created it in the first place,” Rhys said, “and is powerless to stop it by his own design.”

The ex-Hunter looked at the others. Some already knew this. Others, such as Team Alloy, were completely in the dark. He sighed. “Arceus… used to be the absolute power, yes. However, he is not perfect. Therefore, he feared his own power. At least—” Rhys crossed his arms, “—that is the story we are told. So, he cut his power into thirds. The first portion was kept for himself. The next third was given to Star. The last third was scattered into many smaller parts—imbued into ancient artifacts that had helped with channeling Arceus’ power. Those became the Orbs. These individual powers were meant to be kept separate. In other words—kept away from Star, Arceus, and each other.”

“Okay…” Owen said. “But… hang on. Arceus didn’t like His own temper? Arceus has a temper?”

Rhys nodded. “Arceus does indeed become wrathful at times, and with absolute power, the results can be… devastating. He feared this, so he tried to prevent that from happening—by intentionally weakening himself, and giving some of his power to Star, and then to the rest to the world he created.”

It seemed too simple. Why would someone with ultimate power give it up _at all_? But Owen could tell that Rhys wouldn’t budge, one way or the other. That was the only explanation he would get.

Owen pressed on. “So… so He basically… tried to save the world from Him, retroactively?” Owen said, but there was a hint of skepticism in his tone.

“It seems so,” Rhys said.

Owen grumbled. “But what about you? The Hunters? You want to challenge Him? Like, as in, _usurp_ Him? Even though He did something so selfless?”

Rhys closed his eyes. “We were… conscripted,” he said, “by Star, to usurp him.”

“Oh.” Owen said. He blinked twice. “Wait—"

“You’re lying,” Zena said immediately.

“Do I look like I’m lying?” Rhys said just as quickly.

“That Torkoal said the same exact thing,” Zena said. “You’re lying, just as he was! Star would never—”

“Hello?” Anam said, looking at the air. His thick, feeler-like horns twitched. “Oh, hi, Star!” he said.

“Anam, you should probably speak with your mind when conversing with the spirits,” James muttered.

“Oh, you want to come out? Okay. Hold on.” Anam held his hands out. A cyan glow was followed by a soft, pink mist. Upon being expelled, it solidified—barely—into an apparition: a transparent body of Star. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t put enough power to make you—”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Star said. “Don’t waste energy. I just had to talk.”

“H-h-hi, Star!” Owen greeted.

“Hey, Owen!” Star waved. “Hey, good to see you got your old Type back. Maybe you can practice switching between the two later, huh?”

“Y-yeah. But, um—about… what Rhys said.”

“Star, are you here to disprove what that Hunter is saying?” Zena said. “Smite him.”

Star held her arms up, waving her hands quickly. “N-no, no, I don’t do the whole _smite_ thing. I, uh,” she said. “I mean, I’m kinda here to… back Rhys up.”

Zena’s coils tightened.

“I was listening in, and… he’s right. I… _did_ kinda… create the Hunters, in a sense.” She fiddled with her paws.

The Milotic looked like she’d been stabbed in the chest. “Y-you… _created_ them?” she said. She expected Star to laugh and say it was a joke, another one of her pranks. But the Mew’s downcast eyes said it all. “The very people that—that ruined my life—that ruined everything I had?!” Zena said.

Star kept her head down.

The lack of response was perhaps the worse reaction Zena could have received. The painful silence lasted for—Owen wasn’t sure how many seconds. Too long. Even Gahi stayed quiet, his huge mouth slightly open in disbelief. Owen wondered if it was because the trio was witnessing Mew Herself, or because Star was behind something so horrible.

“I could have lived a normal life!” Zena whispered loudly. She was trembling. Her voice slowly grew in volume. “I… I could have lived as a normal Milotic, perhaps found myself a fine partner to have an egg with, to raise a child together, to become a family, to die of age like—like any other Pokémon! But instead…! Instead I lived… _centuries_ … in isolation… with nothing but spirits that _taunt_ me with their deaths, their ability to freely leave and pass on…! And I’m… I’m just _stuck_ here with this Orb, some piece of our so-called all-mighty Creator’s rejected power! And… and all for what?! All for you to take it back?!”

Star opened her mouth to speak.

“ _I_ don’t want to hear another _word_ from you! Leave my sight!”

Star bit her lower lip. She lingered, but when Zena’s piercing, fiery eyes persisted—enough to rival Owen’s tail—she disintegrated into a blue ember and returned to Anam.

Zena threw her head onto her coils, shivering and sniffling. Owen quietly looked around and saw that nobody was comfortable enough to approach her. He took initiative and quietly stepped closer to Zena and put a hand to her neck. She jerked her head away, but didn’t resist when Owen tried a second time.

“Why?” Owen finally asked. “What’s… what’s it all for? Why does—or, did, why _did_ Star want that power?”

Rhys shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t know,” he said. “Star… she has this ability to remove and even replace the memories of others. It’s what inspired Nevren’s techniques to keep others from realizing that we’ve been around for too long. But since her power is not the entirety of what Arceus once had, it’s not perfect. Sometimes, we can recall them, with reminders that we see, or hear, or smell. While these powers are weaker on me, even I don’t know the full extent of what Star wants. Only that, for a time… I wanted to help Star. But now, after seeing what it’s done,” he glanced at Zena, “I simply couldn’t continue.”

Zena pressed her eyes against her scales. She was well beyond anger at this point; it seemed like she was just closing herself off again, like she was hiding away in the base of her caverns all over again. The way she coiled against the rocks made her scales bend roughly against the jagged portions. Owen stared worriedly at this. Did Zena even realize it?

“Star was my friend,” she said. “How could she lie to me? For so long?”

Owen held Zena’s side, trying to prevent her from damaging her scales too much. It was enough to stop her, and she resorted instead to brushing against his side instead. She needed something to press against, and Owen recognized that much, even if he couldn’t understand why. Her sheer size made it hard for the Charmeleon to remain stable; he gripped his claws onto the nest for some leverage. It wasn’t very effective.

“She may have told you many times before,” Rhys said, “and then erased your memory of it when the reaction was… less than favorable. But with all of us present, I doubt she can erase them again. Not effectively.”

Zena sniffed. Her tail wrapped around Owen next; he was too slow to react, and he became enveloped somewhere along her abdomen. She curled around him, just to have something to hold. “I remember… _oh_ , I certainly remember _now_ …!”

“Y-you do?” Owen said. “How many times did She tell you?”

Zena shook her head. Her voice was only slightly louder than a whisper. “A number of times. Every few decades. I reacted badly. I threatened to leave, and she couldn’t have that—I would get hurt.” She shrugged her head and rolled her watering eyes. Owen sensed Zena’s muscles make the same contraction pattern as before, threatening to brush against the walls again. He held her firmly, and her scales flinched away from the rocks.

The Milotic continued, “So, she had to undo it… and make me forget. She didn’t want me to get hurt…. That’s what she always told me. But…” Zena sniffled. She suddenly raised her voice, and it cracked. “But I’d rather _die_ than live like this!”

“You don’t have to live like that any longer,” Rhys said firmly. “We will stay together as our own community. We will live among the mortals. And… we will gather the Orbs before the remaining Hunters can.”

Zena sniffed. Her coils tightened.

Owen squeaked, air escaping his lungs. His bones creaked. “Can’t… can’t breathe…!”

Zena released him and he gasped for air. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She stared at Rhys, now, recalling his recent actions. “Yet, you Promised to no longer be a Hunter,” she said. “Why?”

“Because I don’t believe it is helping _anybody_ to keep the Orbs scattered in this way,” he said. “Even Star agrees, I’m sure, that having us live together is much better than keeping us apart. It’s unfortunate that we had to wait this long for that decision… but here we are.”

“And she doesn’t agree with the other Hunters, either?” Owen asked. “Like that Espurr?”

“Certainly not,” Nevren spoke up. “The remaining Hunters are acting on their own, for their own gain.”

Owen sank down, satisfied at least with this answer. While it was hard, even for Owen, to get a read on Nevren, what he said was reasonable.

“So that’s it, then,” James said, nodding. “We race the Hunters to gathering the Guardians. With Star’s cooperation, perhaps we can find more of them.”

Zena curled a bit tighter around Owen again; the Charmeleon tensed, readying for another crushing grip. “You can plan with her,” she said, “I’m not ready to speak.”

“Of course,” James said. “Anam? If you can summon her, please.”

“Right.”

Star appeared again, this time a bit more solid—but Star was too powerful for Anam to fully materialize, and she was still a bit see-through. “H-hey, everyone…”

“Star…” Owen said. He wanted to speak carefully, if only so he didn’t get crushed like a Cheri Berry. “I—I don’t know the whole story yet… and I figure it’s because you’re still afraid to tell us everything about the Hunters, and all that. But… but I…! You seem like a good Pokémon! S-so, you’re gonna help us, right?”

Star nodded. “I’ll do what I can. But, the thing is… a lot of the Guardians don’t talk to me anymore. They’re doing their own thing, hiding away and making sure they don’t, you know, get into any trouble. I’ll need some time to prepare. And I think _you_ all need some rest.”

“O-oh.” Owen nodded. “Right…”

Just then, the pure _exhaustion_ of the day hit him. This day began with him dying while touching the Grass Orb. It ended with him dying _again_ when he turned back to a Fire Type. And now this?

“Rest up for a few days,” Star said. “I need to… gather everything I know. Alright?”

Rhys nodded. “That’s fair enough,” he said. “Demitri, Mispy, Gahi. Let’s return home for dinner. Owen, I imagine you would like to go home with Amia.”

“Y-yeah,” Owen said. “Definitely. I’ll—” He tried to get out of Zena’s coils, but the Milotic held onto him tighter.

“Where will I go?” she asked.

“Oh, um, well,” Owen considered this. Zena probably wouldn’t be very comfortable in a slimy pool of water with Anam. And Rhys—that was certainly out of the question, at least for now.

“You can come home with us, dear,” Amia said. “Hot Spot Cave, despite the name, is quite cool if I’m not using my power. I’ll make sure the central part of the cave is tolerable!”

Zena nodded. “Then, I will go there.”

Rhys nodded. “I believe we should also move in,” he said. “While Star prepares, we will gather our supplies and go to Hot Spot Cave.”

“E-eh? Just like that?” Gahi asked.

“I have a responsibility to protect the Guardians. If they are going to live in Hot Spot, then I shall go there as penance.”

“Oh! You know,” Owen perked up, “there’s actually building a lot like yours in Hot Spot! It even has a little sand pit from one of the other—” Owen winced, remembering that his entire village was dead. “You know, where one of the spirits used to fake-live.”

“A sand pit? Fer me?” Gahi said. “Hah! Well, I ain’t gonna complain. Figure we’ll accidentally go ter our old home a lot in the next few days, though.”

“We will be sure to register our Badges with Hot Spot Cave as its new portable Waypoint,” Rhys said. “Come, you three. Let’s go.”

Owen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hey, um, am I part of Team Alloy, now?” he asked. “We never made it official.”

“Eh? Oh, sure,” Gahi said. “Figured we already were. Sure. It’s official now.”

Vines slowly wrapped around Gahi, lifting him off the ground. His tiny legs wiggled uselessly. Mispy turned the Trapinch around, staring at him with narrowed, red eyes. “ _I’m_ leader,” the Chikorita said.

“E-ehh…” Gahi’s jaws shut tight. He nodded.

Mispy dropped Gahi and nodded at Owen. “You may,” she said.

Owen brightened. “Great! Then, um—I’ll see you guys soon!”

 

Kricketot chirped in the bushes. The clear sky was speckled with white pinpricks and no moon. Amia, with Alex beside her, led the way home with Owen and Zena. There was a little spring in the Gardevoir’s step. Owen’s tail and his father’s Magmortar body helped to light the way home.

“Uh oh,” Owen suddenly said, stopping.

“What is it, dear?” Amia asked.

“How is Zena gonna get inside if she’s alone?”

Zena blinked. “What do you mean? Does it not open to certain individuals?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Owen said. “You need to do the password to get in. But you can’t do it, because you don’t have any limbs.”

The Kricketot filled the void.

“What?” Zena said.

Amia giggled. “Oh, Owen, that password is just for non-Guardians. If you’re Mystic, it’s easy to just _will_ the boulder to the side, you know! I just put that switch there because once we had you, well, it wasn’t going to just be me heading in and out of that spot…”

“W-wait… so only I was…?” Owen trailed off.

“What _is_ this password?” Zena asked.

“Uhh—” Owen blushed. “It’s not important.”

“We’ll have to teach it to Gahi and the others anyway, dear,” Amia said. “But you won’t need it if you’re Mystic, Zena. So, Owen, that means you won’t have to do the dance anymore! Isn’t that nice?”

“A dance,” Zena repeated, staring at Owen. She was clearly envisioning Owen cutting some form of a jig, based on the smile she valiantly suppressed.

Owen wondered if drowning was the better outcome after all.

“Ah, here we are!” Amia flicked her hand at the boulder. It rolled away effortlessly.

Owen looked crushed.

On their way in, Owen’s fatigue returned to the forefront of his mind. “I can’t wait to get some sleep,” he said.

“I just might sleep, too,” Amia said. “It’s not really something that we _need_ to do, but—”

“Wait,” Owen said exhaustedly, exasperatedly, “you don’t have to sleep?”

“When you become strong enough as a Mystic,” Amia said delicately, “a lot of the things that mortals need to perform become optional. Eating, sleeping…”

“But I like both of those things.” Owen frowned. “What’s the point of living if you can’t get a good meal?”

“Well, nothing’s stopping you!” Amia laughed. “A meal every now and then is wonderful! Besides, Owen, you just became a Guardian. You still need to eat.”

Owen shifted uncomfortably.

“I slept quite a lot,” Zena admitted. “It gets… boring, down there.”

“I can imagine,” Owen said. But on second thought, he couldn’t.

He eyed the glowing mushrooms. “Mom? Are these mushrooms glowing because of your power?”

“They are, dear,” Amia said. “I thought it made the cave look very pretty.”

Owen nodded.

“Do you like them?”

“Yeah!” Owen said. “So—can you keep that, maybe?”

Amia beamed. “I’d love to. What about you, Zena?”

“They’re much better than my dreary cave.”

They walked through the empty town. The pit in Owen’s stomach returned. He remembered the Arcanine that always greeted him. The kids playing in the main path. All his neighbors. Now it was empty and silent. Their steps echoed across the corridors.

“I think this home in particular, Zena, would do nicely for you,” Amia said. It was right next to their own cavern, though it seemed a lot cooler inside. Within this alcove was a large pit filled with rocks. Amia stepped toward the entryway and held her hand out.

Owen yelped when Amia’s head and dress burst into blue flames. More fire spewed from her arm, colliding with the rocks. The heat was enough to make Zena slither back a few paces. The loose rocks melted and compressed into liquid, creating an even deeper pit. Then, the flames stopped, and Amia’s body extinguished.

Owen’s jaw may as well have been on the floor.

Alex approached the lava, jumped in, and shoved his cannons into the molten rock. It looked like he was siphoning the stuff into his body. Then, he lifted his arms—which looked much heavier—and ejected that same molten rock to the far side of the home. Amia did the same thing, using psychic energy to haul more of the molten rock away to the corner of the room.

Amia finished by holding her other hand out, releasing a concentrated beam of ice into the pool. Plumes of steam filled the air and faded, leaving a pit of smooth obsidian behind.

“There!” Amia clapped her hands together. “Just one Hydro Pump, Zena, and you’ll have a lake to rest in!”

Zena slithered tentatively closer. She gently prodded at the cooled obsidian, and then at the depths of the pit. It would fit her comfortably, and then some. She nodded. “It’s wonderful, Amia,” she said. “Thank you.”

“We should go to bed, Owen,” Alex said. “ _You_ still need to sleep.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Owen nodded.

Amia and Alex left, but Owen didn’t follow just yet. He turned his attention back to Zena; she was filling the pool with multiple, gentle Hydro Pumps. It only took three to finish the job, crystal-clear water up to the very rim. She looked back. “Owen?”

Owen glanced at the missing scales along her body. “Will you be okay?”

“Will I be… okay?” she repeated.

“Yeah.”

Zena tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

Owen played with his claws. “You said you were alone for centuries…”

Zena’s expression was oddly neutral. “That’s true,” she said.

There was another long silence. He didn’t want to impose anything upon her, but part of the pit in his gut was certainly the thought of Zena being alone again. He’d never get to sleep with thoughts like that plaguing his mind.

So, he spoke. “Do you want—”

“Yes. Please.”

“O-okay.” Owen scampered into his home. “Mom!” he called. “I—oh, thanks.”

Amia handed him a bowl of Tamato soup.

“Keep Zena company, dear, at least for tonight,” Amia said.

“Would you like me to carry over your bed?” Alex asked, peering out from the kitchen corridor.

“Oh, sure, yeah.”

Owen returned to Zena’s home and found a spot in the corner to drink his soup. Zena had slipped into the water during his absence, but he could still vaguely sense her presence as part of the water. Steam filled the air and clouded his vision; the red base was scalding, just how he liked it. The Charmeleon drank in greedy gulps. Alex returned with his bed, setting it down next to him. Owen crawled on top, finished his bowl in one last gulp, and handed it to Alex. “Thanks,” he said, and then eyed the lake.

“So, I’m gonna rest here for tonight,” Owen said. “Hope that’s okay.”

The lake didn’t reply. Owen didn’t mind. He curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around, resting his chin atop them. He then wrapped his tail forward, noticing how the flame lit up the whole room.

“Does my tail bother you?” he asked. “I—I can probably cover it, if you like.”

Owen took her silence as indifference.

“Okay. I guess it’s fine,” he said. “But… mm… but I guess I’ll cover it. It wouldn’t be too hard to—”

“It’s okay.”

Owen jumped, startled. Zena was poking her head out from the water, staring at him. “O-oh,” he said. “Okay.”

“Leave your tail out,” she said. “Sleep as you want.”

Owen nodded wordlessly. Zena sank back into the water, blending into it.

The soup’s warmth spread to the rest of his body, and his eyes grew heavy. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He curled up in bed, closed his eyes, and drifted away.

Zena slept soundly for the first time in decades.

 

The morning sun accompanied the arrival of Rhys and the rest of Team Alloy, just beyond Hot Spot Cave’s entrance.

“It’s a _dance_?” Gahi growled, angrily clicking his jaws.

“I’m not that good at dancing,” Demitri said, glancing at Mispy, who rolled her eyes.

“Maybe we can simplify it for you!” Amia said. “A phrase, or I can just manually check your auras instead of automating it.”

Rhys nodded. “Well, in any case, we have about half of our essential supplies with us,” he said, motioning behind him. Demitri was singlehandedly hauling the bulk of it in a gigantic bag that had a color suspiciously similar to Rhys’ fur coat. Owen stared in disgust.

“We have a home just for you!” Amia said. “I set it up overnight while Owen and Zena were sleeping.”

“I—I wasn’t sleeping. I was merely meditating, as I always do,” Zena said.

Owen was _positive_ he’d heard the lake snore. Or perhaps that was a dream.

“Once we haul the rest of our supplies,” Rhys said, “we will return home to get the last of it. Afterward, we will continue with our usual regimen of training, missions, and so on, until Star is ready.”

Zena huffed at the mention of the Creator.

“N-now, now, we just have to wait,” Amia said. “Owen! While your friends go on their usual Missions, why don’t you stay back and train with Zena and I under Rhys? Perhaps we can help you get a better hold of your Mystic powers.”

“Oh, that could work,” Owen said. Though he longed for a normal day, he supposed such a privilege would need defer to his new duties, forced as they were. “What kind of training?”

“The first thing you should learn,” Zena said, “is how to control your ability to harness your Orb. So, becoming Grass.”

Owen recalled when he’d been nothing but a torso and vines. “Th-that sounds like a good plan,” he said. “How do I do that?”

“Practice,” Amia said. “It shouldn’t be more than a few days, so the timing works well!”

Owen wondered if it was possible to die of boredom as a Guardian. That sounded much more lethal than drowning.

“Heh, good luck, Grassmander,” Gahi said with a mocking churr.

“Don’t forget that Grass trumps Ground,” Owen growled.

“Aah, you’ll do fine,” Gahi said, wobbling into the cave.

The next few days passed by without much happening, to Owen’s great relief. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all settled into their homes—an uncanny similarity to their old cave by the forest—with Rhys spending the entire first day rearranging his mementos and artifacts. Amia dedicated a bit of time and practice to repopulating the village with her many spirits. Despite the knowledge that they were all dead, it eased Owen’s mind to see them all again.

Owen asked them what it was like putting up with the act. It turned out that many of them just wanted to live again, even if it was an act, and they thanked Owen for giving them that opportunity. With his morale raised, he practiced shifting his form from one to the other with significantly more enthusiasm.

The process of transforming was not the easiest. On the first day, Owen’s limbs frequently dissolved into a mess of vines, though none were nearly to the point of what had happened at Calm Water Lake. It took Owen a quarter of the day to shift fully from Fire to Grass, though it took a much less time to shift back to Fire. Resting only to eat and sleep, Owen’s days were productively boring. He envied his mother’s ability to shift from her normal form to one with blue flames in a blink’s time.

It wasn’t perfect, but after a few days of the routine, Owen was able to shift from Fire to Grass with some concentration and about ten seconds. He had a long way to go, and he couldn’t do it under the pressure or chaos of a fight, but if he had a spare moment to shift, he could do it.

On the third day, Star called upon Amia in her Fire Realm. She was ready, and asked for them all to gather in Anam’s office at noon.

 

 “Well… I know for sure that Rim already stole one of the Orbs,” Star said, sitting on Anam’s dark wooden desk. “The Psychic Orb, actually. Appropriate, given she always likes being an Espurr, but…” she shook her head. “That one wasn’t very well-guarded. Some village had it as an artifact, hidden in plain sight, so all she had to do was sneak in and steal it. Didn’t have any power. Folks who tried touching it never woke up again, so, guess they just saw it as too dangerous.”

“How about all the other Orbs?” Owen asked.

“As far as I know, they’re all with a Guardian, but most I wouldn’t recommend going to just now,” Star said. “Still, we’re in a good spot. Four Orbs with us, one Orb to them.”

Zena, while still flashing glares at Star whenever she could, kept herself professional enough to contribute. “Let’s begin with Orbs you believe are the easiest to access. What are some of those?”

“Okay. I’ll put down those dots first,” Star said. “Then you guys can grab the first one. Uhh…” She looked up at the huge map on the front wall of Anam’s office. The others followed her gaze. It depicted a great, roughly-circle-shaped country that comprised almost all of the world’s dry land. Everything else was just ocean. Owen saw the marking of his home to the north of Kilo Mountain in the center of the map.

“This one’s pretty good. She’s a little _weird_ , but she won’t hurt you, maybe. Willow, the Fairy Guardian. She’s right here, in a hidden garden inside that forest….” She pointed at a pale green patch of land within a northwestern woodland called Fae, Fae Forest.

Demitri shuddered slightly. “Fairy, huh…” he said.

“Oh, calm down,” Star hushed him. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I—I do!” Demitri said. “I just… won’t try to fight her.”

“How about all the other locations?” Owen asked.

“Well—it’s kinda a lot, but there’s also one here, _possibly_ still in Deepwoods of Nightshade Forest.” She pointed at a dark green splotch to the east. “Oh, and then there’s this other spot, on the Spire of Trials…” She pointed to a brown, pointed structure further south of Nightshade Forest.

James shook his head. “Why don’t we focus on this one at a time?” he said. “Perhaps we should split ourselves into groups of three or four, depending on our ideal team makeup. We can balance ourselves between experienced fighters and those who are… less so.”

“Y-yeah,” Amia tittered. “O-oh! Actually… what do spirits count as in a Dungeon?” she said.

“In terms of team coordination, they should count as one of your members, should they be solid enough,” James said. “However, as far as the Badges are concerned, they use up no energy when performing an emergency warp on them—therefore, they would not count in that case.”

“But I think,” Anam said, “if you can make maybe _one_ solid spirit… that should count.” He nodded. “It’s hard to organize teams that have five or more Pokémon, y’know?”

“I feel like you’d need someone dedicated to just managing things if you have too many Hearts fighting on one team,” Owen said.

Nevren chuckled. “A Heart manager. It sounds as if you want a tactician.”

Rhys glared at Nevren. The Alakazam ignored it.

“What an interesting concept, Owen,” Nevren went on. “Well, I’m not much of a fighter, so perhaps I can play that role,” he said. “Would you care if I gave you all communication devices? I’ve actually been working on this for quite some time, and it may actually be useful in this case, hm.”

“Y-you can do that? How?”

“It’s similar technology to how my Waypoints have been working, but instead of transferring solid material such as Pokémon and their possessions, it transfers energy, such as, in this case, the vibrations of the air made by speaking. Quite useful, yes?” Nevren pulled from his bag—as if he’d been waiting a while to announce this—what appeared to be three silver Badges. “I only have two at the moment… ah, no, three.”

“They look… kinda like our Badge,” Owen said.

“Yes, I wanted there to be a resemblance. However, the color is quite different, so I imagine there will not be much confusion.”

It was indeed a lot like the Badge, but the design in the center was not a heart, but a diamond. However, it was the silver sheen, compared to the typical gold, was the most immediate difference.

“Mnn… nice,” Mispy said.

“How do you use it?” Owen asked.

“You press the center rhombus and speak into it. So long as the other badge is not pressed, it will reflect what it ‘hears’… to put it simply.”

Gahi pressed the little rhombus with his tiny foot. “Can yeh hear me?”

_Can yeh hear me?_ the other two said at the very same time.

“Whoa!” Owen said. “That’s… really cool!”

The Trapinch clicked. “That’s how I sound?”

“Sounded normal to me,” Demitri said.

“Mhm,” Mispy nodded.

Gahi grumbled something and pushed the communicator to the others with a flick of his head. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, you sound fine, Gahi. We’re used to it,” Demitri teased. “Hey, how about we compete for second place on evolving on this mission, huh? Oh—how are we gonna divide up our teams?”

“Hmm…” James said. “Perhaps we should ask Star. What do you recommend?”

“Well, maybe Demitri has a point about not taking on the Fairy Guardian,” Star said, “So, whoever’s weak against the Fairy type—or wants to go with Demitri—” she nodded at Mispy, “—should probably go for someone else.”

“I feel like we kinda do well together,” Gahi said. “Guess us three’ll be a team.”

Owen looked at them. “Can I come with you guys? All four of—"

“No!” Rhys and Star said.

Owen jumped.

“I—I mean,” Rhys said, “perhaps not. We need at least one elite with you. I shall accompany them.”

“And your father and I will go with you instead, Owen,” Amia said, smiling.

Owen deflated. He really wanted to fight as a quartet…

“So that will be a team with Demitri, Mispy, Gahi, and Rhys,” James said, “and a team of Owen, Amia, and I presume Alex. That leaves you, Zena… perhaps to come with myself and Anam. Do you have a spirit to accompany you?”

Zena glanced at Owen, but then sighed and addressed James. “None that I can solidify usefully,” she admitted.

“I can’t go,” Star said. “I’m too strong to solidify completely, and I want Anam to focus that energy on keeping James out. I’ll just cheer for you guys... okay?”

Nevren nodded. “I wish you all luck,” he said. “I will remain behind to manage the Association while you are away, yes?”

“Oh! Yeah, thank you, Nevren!” Anam said. “Um… I think that’s everyone! Yeah! So, we’ll have three teams! Star? Where should we go?”

“Uhh, definitely the Fairy Guardian,” Star said.

“Perhaps we can handle that,” Amia said, patting Owen on the head.

Star nodded. “How about for you guys,” she said to Rhys’ team, “handle the Rock Guardian down in the Great Crevice to the southeast?” She pointed at what appeared to be a large, rocky gash—a wound of the world—that trailed across an eighth of the land’s diameter.

“Hey, that ain’t bad,” Gahi said. “Aside from th’ scalebag, we all got an advantage against Rocks.”

“And I know the Brick Break technique,” Demitri said, miming a chop through the air.

“Yeah, good plan! So as for you three…” She looked at Anam, James, and Zena. “Hmm…. Another one that might be easier to handle would be the Normal Guardian. He’s, uh… where is he… oh! There,” she said, pointing at a Dungeon. “The Abandoned Temple…. Yeah. That’ll do for you three.” She pointed at an odd marking on the map due slightly west of Kilo Mountain. She tilted her head curiously, spotting illegible scribbles next to it in Anam’s handwriting. “Oh,” she mumbled. “Well, anyway, that’s a good three to go with.”

“Why is the Normal Guardian at a temple?” Owen asked.

“He kinda likes modern architecture,” Star said.

“What’s a modern?” Gahi asked.

“Uhhh—it means ancient. Sorry, I kinda get my terms mixed up. Generational lingo, y’know? Kinda hard for a god to keep up when you’re cooped up in the spirit world.”

Owen was busy chatting with Zena to notice what else Star was saying. He already had his assignment. “I guess it’s good that I’m not a Dragon Type after all, huh?” Owen said.

“Oh, you aren’t?” Zena asked. “You know, I always thought the Charmander line was part Dragon.”

“Believe me, I wish that was true,” Owen grumbled. “Dragons are awesome. We even look like one, if you compare us! But I guess _someone_ —” Owen glared at Star, “—thought we were better off with things like Pidgey. No offense to Pidgey or anything,” Owen quickly amended.

Zena nodded. “Well, I think you’re just fine, regardless of your Type. Fire… or Grass.”

Owen tittered. “Y-yeah, I guess Grass isn’t so bad after all.” He lied aloud, if only to keep Mispy from dismembering him in his sleep.

Zena smiled. “And, Owen,” she said, “before we go… I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Owen asked.

“For… finding me.”

“Oh.” Owen rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just the only thing I could think of doing…”

“I know,” Zena said. “And for keeping me company, Owen, on my first night here. I… I enjoyed that.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a problem,” Owen said.

An awkward silence formed between them. Owen’s eyes trailed to Anam’s slimy bookshelf again.

“Er, and Owen…” Zena said.

“Oh—uh, yeah?”

Zena stared for a while. “Good luck with the Fairy Guardian.”

Owen tilted his head. That was an odd set of muscle movements. He wasn’t sure if Zena was tense for the mission, or what. Perhaps she was just nervous, and Milotic expressed that differently. He wasn’t familiar with serpentine body language, so he smiled. “Hey, and good luck with the Normal Guardian!”


	13. Special Episode 1: Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Charmander join forces to rescue the inhabitants of Nightshade Forest.

Lightning shattered the sky.

A squadron of Pokémon consisting of a Flareon, Delphox, Salazzle, and Rapidash stopped to avert their eyes. A thunderous blast deafened them, and the ground trembled when a follow-up explosion—this time, one of a tree crashing down—dwarfed any other noise. It was midday, yet the sun did not shine through the thick clouds for even an instant. Even truer to its name than usual, Nightshade Forest was navigable only because of the crackling flames on Rapidash Tee’s back.

It was hard to see. Even with the orange glow, the tree trunks were coal-black, and the plants were all the darkest shade of green in all the worlds’ forests. Rainwater glistened against the flames of Tee, but ahead was an even greater glow of a distant, freak inferno that mocked the torrential rainwater.

“LET’S GO!” the Delphox roared. He held his arm up and guided the team with a flame from his palm.

“Leo, slow down!” the Flareon huffed.

“We can’t,” Leo said. “Faster, Emby! What’s taking you, Tee?!”

“It’s—it’s not very easy to work under these conditions!” the Rapidash replied with a hiss that rivaled the stinging fire on her back. Every drop of rain was like acid against her, and the steam that came off of her body was a constant reminder of the thunderstorm above. “Spice! Pick it up!”

“Oh, you hush!” the Salazzle replied. “Pick it up?! You’re the one stumbling over your own hooves!”

“Now’s not the time, girls!” Leo grunted. “Emby, what’s going on?”

“Just ahead,” Emby said. Her bushy tail was soaked from the rain, and it doubled her weight. Between her new bulk and lopsidedness, she was barely able to run. “There’s someone there—who is it?!”

Leo saw, just barely, the signature, dancing ember atop a Charmander’s tail. It walked with great labor—hauling something on his back.

 “Kid!” Leo shouted. “What’s wrong? What—” He gasped.

He was hauling a Bulbasaur that was more ash than plant. Half-dead eyes stared emptily toward the ground.

Leo ran close and wrapped his arms around the charred Pokémon. “This is bad,” he said. “Spice! Oran Berry!”

“I don’t think an Oran’s gonna be enough for this!” Spice said, but she dashed forward anyway, handing Leo the blue fruit.

Leo tried to shove the berry into its mouth, but it didn’t work. Too weak. “C’mon, just a little, get that energy back. This Berry is blessed, you have to eat it!”

The Bulbasaur wasn’t even awake.

“Oh, give me that!” Spice said. Her dark claws snatched the berry from Leo and she shoved it in her mouth. Leo’s eyes bulged in protest. He grabbed her arm, but Spice shoved him aside.

“Spice! Stop with that Salazzle gluttony for a second and—”

He tried to grab her again, but Spice whipped Leo with her tail, binding his arms against his body. He writhed to break free, always surprised by her strength.

Spice then shoved her mouth against the Bulbasaur’s, promptly stopping the rest of Leo’s retort. Spice forced the mashed berry into the Bulbasaur’s larger mouth and down his throat with an amount of practiced ease that unnerved Leo.

It indeed wasn’t enough—but the energy was enough of a jolt to get the Bulbasaur awake. He cried out, suddenly aware of the pain that permeated his body, even with some of the wounds healing. He flailed weakly, flinging bits of burned plant and flesh matter that washed away in the rain.

“I need another!” Spice said. “And a Heal Seed! NOW!”

“R-right,” Leo said, handing the seed, and then the berry. Spice tried to feed it to the Bulbasaur the normal way, but he was too panicked. She cursed under her breath and shoved both in her maw again, chewing quickly, and forcing the food in.

Leo motioned for Emby and Tee to run ahead; they nodded and dashed. If this was the Bulbasaur’s condition, there was no telling how many more needed rescue from the inferno ahead.

“Backup should be here soon with more supplies,” Leo said, looking back. “Ugh—this rain! Why is there a fire in the rain?!”

“This is the worst thunderstorm I’ve ever seen,” Spice said. “Some freak accident must have caused it. The—"

Another bolt split the sky in two. Leo covered his bushy ears. The flame-colored fur that covered the holes shook against the booming sound.

When the thunder subsided, Spice turned her attention to the one that had brought the Bulbasaur to them. “You! Thank you for your help, kid—now, get out of here!”

“N-no way!” he protested. “And—I’m not a kid! I’m Charmander Owen! Maybe you’ve heard of me?!”

“Aren’t you that upstart who got his Provisionary Badge? Look, kid, you’re not even one of the Hearts yet—I know your eyes are toward the stars right now, but this is _way_ too dangerous for someone like you!”

“They need Fire Types to rescue the Pokémon that got lost in the forest. I can handle the fire!”

“But not the falling trees or lightning strikes,” Leo said. “Get out of here! Your flame is already halfway gone. I know how it’s supposed to look.”

The Bulbasaur whimpered. The wounds were fading, but the pain remained. He shivered in the mixture of cold rain and hot burns.

“We can’t leave him here,” Spice said. “Leo! Take this guy back and catch up. I’m gonna run ahead with Tee and Emby.”

“But, Spice—”

“Just _go_ , Leo. You can’t run in that robe-fur of yours anyway. You’re soaking!”

Leo stammered disconnected, single syllables of protest.

Spice shoved the Bulbasaur into Leo’s arms and ran forward.

“W-wait!” Owen ran after her. Leo, hanging onto the Bulbasaur, was in no position to stop him.

“Kid!” Leo said. “You idiot! You—Tauros-headed—” he grunted, but then ran away with the Bulbasaur. Better to save one Pokémon than chase another.

Ahead, Owen struggled to catch up with Spice. They had passed by Tee first, who fell back to assist with a pair of lost Paras. Next, they ran across Emby, guiding a Skiddo, Bellossom, and Shroomish away from the fire. “Any deeper and you won’t find anyone,” Emby warned. “It’s too hot for anybody that isn’t Fire to survive!”

But they pressed on, just in case. Spice was quick in the rain, and she wasn’t quite as bothered by it as the other Fire Types in the area. For the most part, Owen felt the same way—except when the water dripped against the flame of his tail. Every one felt like a thorn stuck inside the very tip, lodging itself like an electric shock that traveled through his spine and into his forehead.

He pushed through it all. His tiny legs were no match for Spice’s lithe, lanky stride. He had to admire being able to move so quickly—he fantasized about when he’d be able to evolve into a Charizard. He heard that sometimes, they could glide across the air by just outstretching their wings, using the updraft of their own heat to stay afloat. That’d be amazing!

“Are you seriously still following me?!” Spice said, looking back.

“M-maybe!” Owen puffed. “The fire’s this way!”

“You don’t say?!” Deeper into the woods, there was dying fire all around them, though the current path of the inferno was much further ahead. A hot spot—indicated by a brighter glow in the corner of their vision—was to the right.

“Just go back, kid. This is way too dangerous for someone like you!”

“I’m an adult! And I can handle myself! This fire’s nothing to me! Th-the rain’s kinda bad, but I can deal with the heat!”

“Ugh! Stubborn. Males are all the same,” Spice hissed. “Fine! Be a hero. But don’t cry to me when you wake up half-dead!”

Owen grumbled something under his breath and rubbed at his arms. He appreciated the intensifying heat. The flames licked at his scales, and Owen sighed. “At least it’s warmer here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Spice muttered, slowing down.

Owen, relieved, also slowed. “What do you mean?”

“Look, you Char-line ‘mons and other Fire-primaries have an easy time with fires, but me? I need to be a little more careful. You’re also lower to the ground, so the smoke can be a problem.”

“Aren’t you part Poison?”

“Still need air,” Spice said. “So, when you go running into the fire, don’t breathe it in, alright? Hold your breath and try to rescue as many Pokémon as you can. There might not even be any more.”

“B-but there are tons of Pokémon in Nightshade Forest! I mean—the wild ones probably ran off by now, but we need to be sure, right? We don’t want to find any corpses that we could’ve saved in the aftermath.”

“And that’s why we’re here.” Spice turned. She and Owen scanned the area; Owen demonstrated a strong awareness for the presence of others in hiding, but so far, there was nothing that either of them could detect. The burned forest was largely abandoned.

On their third advance, Spice remarked, “You know, you’re not too bad, Charm. Maybe I should invite you to my place.”

“E-excuse me?” Owen said.

Lightning struck a tree nearby, but not in the immediate area. Owen gasped and held his chest, feeling the boom rock him to his core. “What’s with this lightning?” he said.

Lightning struck for a second time, and then a third, in rapid succession.

“I—I don’t think storms work this way!” Owen shouted.

“Let’s go! Before—”

A deafening explosion was accompanied by a bright light. Then, there was a wave of heat that Owen welcomed for only a split-second. A tree right behind Spice exploded from the blast, sending splinters and branches in all directions. Spice narrowly dodged one of them, but a heavy branch struck her on the shoulder. She grunted and fell back. Owen stared at the splinters with wide eyes and weaved through all of them, only getting hit by smaller ones that bounced away from his scales.

“S-Spice!” Owen rushed for her.

“Ungh, that’s not good,” Spice grunted. She couldn’t move her arm—it was dislocated. “Kid—you go on ahead. I need to fall back.” She used her good arm to position herself, and then she stood up.

Lightning struck yet again, and another tree exploded far in the darkness. “It’s getting worse,” Owen said, wincing when the rain intensified. His tail felt like it was being sawed off. He reflexively reached back and grabbed it, holding it beneath his chin to shield the flame from the downpour.

“H-h-help!”

Owen and Spice both turned. “Did you hear that?” Owen said.

“Let’s go!”

With her good arm, Spice shifted her bag to a more convenient position on the other side of her chest and ran after him. Owen ran awkwardly with his tail under his chin, but he was careful not to actually make contact—by now, water was running down every inch of his body. Yet, the fire of the forest continued to rage; it was too hot and too extensive for the rain to put out quickly.

The smoke was thick here, and it mixed with hot water vapor. _That_ would be a problem if Owen got too close. They must have been near the center of the inferno. Steam mixed with smoke and embers, rising in thick clouds that only contributed to more of the blotted sky. Spice was a lot lower to the ground, shambling through to get as much fresh air as she could. It was almost a crawl, albeit awkward with only one arm working.

Owen, shorter, kept up with his normal running pace.

Lightning struck again, and another tree shattered. This one was ahead, and Owen feared the worst.

A head-splitting, growling rumble shook the forest. Each vibration shook the water droplets on Owen’s scales. A tree tilted to the right. Spice was running straight toward it, wincing from a plume of smoke that caught her off guard.

“Spice!” Owen yelled. He grabbed her by the tail and yanked—his strength was miniscule, but it was just enough to save Spice from the trunk that had crashed mere inches in front of her face.

She flicked her tail away out of reflex, nearly whipping Owen with it, but then let out a little puff. “Thank you,” she said.

Just ahead, Owen saw a Jolteon cowering in the middle of a clearing, as far from the fire as it could get.

“Aw, Mew, this isn’t any good—” Owen said.

“Ugh, curse Mew, more like!” Spice said. “How long has he been there?” She rushed closer. “Hey! Hey, can you hear me?”

“H-help…” That was all he could say.

He was hot to the touch. His fur hurt to even get near—electricity arced from spike to spike. “You need to calm down,” Spice said.

The Jolteon didn’t hear them.

Spice grunted and reached forward, clutching the Jolteon anyway. Electricity coursed through her in a painful pulse. “Nngh, listen here, you…!” she said. “Charmander!”

“Y-yes!”

“Cheri Berry! Bag! Now!”

“O-okay!” Owen rummaged through his bag and grabbed one. He was about to pass it over to Spice, but another bolt of lightning crashed down, drawn straight to the Jolteon. It passed through Spice instead.

“SPICE!”

She could barely stand; there was a sharp, jagged pattern on her back. The Jolteon screamed in a panic, electricity from the bolt of lightning coursing through him next. He reacted with a countering jolt, shooting white arcs of electricity in all directions. Much of the blast went toward Owen who, still dripping wet from the rain, felt pain across his entire body. He could only moan in response and crumpled to the ground, seizing from the aftershocks through his muscles.

“S-Sp-Spice!” Owen wheezed.

Spice didn’t respond.

Another explosion. Somewhere far away, a tree collapsed. A second explosion followed, and another tree fell. A third explosion—this one was much louder. Owen struggled to stand, but nothing his mind desired was answered by his body. Rain pounded on his back, and the fire closed in. It was all too much. He just wanted to sleep. Owen’s eyelids fluttered, and his body stopped seizing.

Tiny hands grabbed Owen’s arm and rolled him over. “Hey. Hey. Wake up.”

Owen’s vision was too blurry. Scaly hands tried to peel his eyelids open. He grunted and turned his head. The visitor shoved an Oran Berry in Owen’s mouth, and then his hands maneuvered Owen’s jaw, forcing him to chew. Bits of the juice leaked down his throat—that was enough to give Owen the energy to keep eating.

Owen saw a Charmander in front of him. “H-hi?” he mumbled, delirious.

“Hey.” It sounded, and looked, exactly like him.

“Hey, me… Am I dead? Are you my dark side?”

“Nice greeting,” the other Owen said. “No. Can you stand?” He pulled Owen to a sitting position.

“No.”

“Try.”

“I can’t move my legs.”

“Right.” The second Owen let go, and Owen fell back with a grunt. The doppelganger rummaged through his bag.

“That’s mine, though,” Owen protested. “Oh, but you’re…” A brief moment of lucidity passed through him. “Spice!”

“I already helped her.”

“The Jolteon?”

Lightning, crash, fall. Lightning again, another crash.

“I’m working on it,” the duplicate said.

Owen watched his double sort through his supplies.

“Are you from the future?”

“No.”

The Charmander spun around and closed his eyes. Owen tilted his head, watching the odd maneuver. Was he suddenly blind? The second Owen groped the ground with one hand and held an Oran Berry in the other. He felt the Jolteon’s paw, and then immediately turned and faced Owen, staring at him while he shoved the berry in the Jolteon’s mouth, forcing more chewing.

Owen, unnerved, said, “Shouldn’t you be looking at him? Stop… stop staring at me. That’s weird.”

“Can’t.”

Lightning flashed. The downpour was intensifying; Owen could barely hear over it and the angry inferno around them.

“Where’s your Badge?”

“In my bag,” Owen said.

“Good.” He turned to the bag and rummaged through it again, pulling it out. He then walked backwards, staring at Owen the whole time, while he searched for the Jolteon again. Then, he tapped the Badge on the Jolteon’s forehead; it blinked, and a light enveloped him. In a flash, he was gone.

“Th-that was my warp!” Owen said. “Now _we_ can’t get out! That was just Provisionary! It doesn’t have the juice for full-on rescue warps!”

“Better him than us.” He returned the now-useless Badge into Owen’s supply bag.

The harshest bolt yet crashed down right next to them, splitting another tree apart down to its roots. Flaming splinters scattered in all directions, and Spice, finally coming to, was struck by a few of them.

“Ugh—!” She rolled onto her front. “What? Who are—?”

Owen’s double grabbed Spice’s bag, grabbed her Badge from it, and tossed the bag itself to her without looking. She snatched it from the air.

“Get out of here,” he said. “You’ve exhausted your supplies. Owen and I are going to keep going.”

“Owen and—what are you, twins?”

“No.”

“I’m not leaving until my mission is complete. And that mission is to—”

The mirror image tapped the Badge’s center and immediately threw it at Spice. She caught it with one hand. “Hey, you rude little thing, _I’m_ the Heart here, and—” The Badge activated, and she was gone.

Owen stared. After a pause of disbelief, he blurted, “THAT WAS OUR OTHER WARP!”

Owen-two sighed, visibly relaxing. He looked at Owen. “There’s a Dungeon nearby that has Pokémon trapped inside. We need to get in there and help them get out. That’s where an Elite was sent, but I don’t think it’s going to be enough. Are you coming?”

Owen replied with self-interrupted protests, but then he grunted out a small ember. Lightning rapidly struck four times in random areas. After the strikes stopped, and Owen took his hands off his head, he grunted. “Let’s go.”

Owen followed his double; they ran at the exact same pace, had nearly the same gait, and were only slightly out of sync in their steps. “So, Owen! What’s—”

“My name isn’t Owen.”

“O-oh—um—Charmander?”

He hesitated. “Call me Deca.”

“Wait, how’d you know my name if you aren’t—?”

“I heard about you getting a provisionary Badge.”

“Oh.” Owen nodded. “So, wait, there’s a Dungeon in Nightshade Forest?”

“Small one. Showed up recently.”

“Showed up recently? How do Dungeons show up?”

“It’s some kind of flux of divine energy, and it lingers, creating the distortion. It’s like its own little world.”

“What causes it?”

“Working on that.”

Owen tripped on a flaming branch. “Ugh—”

Deca stopped and helped him up, tugging him over the branch.

“A-ahh!” Owen desperately pat through his bag, but it had caught fire. The heat was outpacing the rain, and his bag was dry in some spots, resulting in it finally going alight.

Impatient, Deca grabbed the bag, pulled out the Badge, and threw the rest away. “We need to go.”

“B-but that was expensive!”

“Do you want Pokémon to die?”

“N-no, but—”

Deca ran ahead with his eyes shut. Owen hesitated for only a fraction of a second, and then he was right after him, panting from all the running. He hoped Deca didn’t trip from running blind.

“Deca!” he shouted. “A-are you mad or something?! I’m sorry!”

“I’m not mad.”

“Then how come you’re talking so—”

“I’m concentrating.”

“What—?”

“Dungeon ahead.”

They passed through a distortion of light, and the ground around Owen raised into its typical labyrinth, this time coated in burning wood, charred dirt, and glowing rocks. Water ran down the distorted labyrinth’s walls in small streams, which in turn filled the halls with a thick layer of steam. “Th-the Dungeon’s on fire, too!?”

“Must have passed through the distortion,” Deca said, looking back. “The fire’s old.” Their paws sank into ashen mud.

The rain was still pouring, putting out the largest of the embers. The fire had been here for a while; the first segment had long since exhausted its fuel. But that meant the fire was more intense further in and—even worse—any Pokémon potentially trapped inside would be struggling to outpace it.

Deca rummaged through his own bag and pulled out a scarf, wrapping it around his eyes.

“Uh—” Owen said.

“Guide me.”

“Excuse me?”

Deca had blindfolded himself. “Guide me.”

“O-okay, if you say so,” Owen trailed off.

He walked forward and took the lead through the Dungeon, but Deca suddenly slapped his tail.

“Excuse me!” Owen protested, blushing.

“Faster. I’m not slow.”

“Ugh!” Hot in the face, Owen sprinted forward—and, to Owen’s surprise, Deca kept up. Every time Deca fell forward, he brought his arms out and flipped in a sort of somersault, landing on his feet just behind Owen. So impressed by this, Owen didn’t realize the wall in front of him, and he ran straight into it. His tail stiffened, and he slumped down with a groan.

“Don’t get distracted,” Deca said.

“Stop distracting me with those crazy moves,” Owen countered, rubbing his nose. He was bleeding from that one, but he ignored it. “What do you know, Acrobatics?”

“I know what you know.”

The fires intensified for every segment they went through. “How short is short?” Owen called over the roaring fire. The only thing good about the Dungeon was that lightning didn’t strike here. The deeper they went, the softer the explosions that echoed from the Dungeon entrance felt.

“No idea. It’s a new Dungeon, so it’s going to be smaller. No more than six distortion gateways.”

“G-got it.”

Owen counted four that they had gone through. The flames covered the ground for entire corridors; he had to hold his breath so he didn’t breathe in the smoke. The heat made it difficult to tell where the next distortion of light was, since essentially everything seemed distorted by the heat.

“We’re going in circles,” Deca said.

“I—I know, I’m trying to find a way out!” Owen said.

“They’ll die if we take too long.”

“I know!”

Owen took a spontaneous right. They got out of the fire, and Owen gasped for air. “Finally!” he said. “W-wait—no fire?”

“We caught up,” Deca said, adjusting the scarf around his head.

“That means the survivors are ahead, right?” Owen asked.

“Or this is a dead end.”

Something bright rushed past them, illuminating the halls that weren’t ablaze; Owen felt hot wind follow. “H-huh?” Owen looked back. “W-wait, that was—”

It was in the shape of a Lucario, but it was coated in some sort of blue light. Once he was far away from the heat, the light vanished.

“Th-that’s Lucario Rhys!” Owen said. “But he’s a Steel Type! How’d he even get down here?”

“He knows the way!” Deca shouted, pulling off his blindfold to stare at Owen. “Follow him!” He put the blindfold back on.

“O-okay!” Owen said. He briefly worried whether Deca would be able to follow him or not, but he had to move ahead anyway.

Thankfully, Deca kept up. Without the flames and the smoke, Owen finally had a clear enough head to think about this strange doppelganger. He’d met other Charmander before—mostly feral ones in the Hot Spot Dungeon, whose mannerisms constantly unnerved him. It was incredibly surreal to see someone that was the same species, and yet with a different _capacity_. It was one of the great mysteries of the world, in Owen’s mind—what the difference was between him, and a wild Charmander. Upbringing? No, even then, they were different. Their minds simply didn’t operate the same way.

Deca bumped up against Owen’s tail.

“S-sorry,” Owen said.

“Stop getting distracted.”

“Okay, okay,” Owen said.

They continued to walk in silence, picking up the pace just slightly. The fire wasn’t moving quickly, to their fortune. They had time to find the survivors at the end of the Dungeon.

“What were you thinking about?” Deca asked.

“Wild Charmander,” Owen said.

“Oh.”

“It’s just weird to think about,” he said. “I never saw another Charmander in a while that was like you.”

“Like me?”

“Not wild.”

“Oh. It’s different.”

“Yeah.”

Owen pulled his tail closer to inspect it. “Where are you from, Deca?”

“Southeast.”

“Oh, that’s not too far from here, I think,” he said. “Did you hear about trouble here and came?”

“Yes. My friends and I wanted to help. Is there anybody around?”

“No, why?”

Deca took off his blindfolds and sighed, watching Owen’s back.

“Uh… okay,” Owen said. “And how come you have that? What’s keeping it from burning away?”

“It’s made from Rawst Leaves.”

“Oh! Mom has that for my bed.”

“Mom?”

“Y-yeah. She isn’t a Charizard, though. She’s a Gardevoir that took me in. Dad’s a Magmortar, though. I learned a lot of my Fire techniques from him.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. They’re just as good, and I never knew my real parents.”

Deca nodded, but then flashed a smile. “I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

The confidence that Deca had said that made Owen hold his chest. “Y’think so?”

“I’m positive. You would make them very proud.”

Owen laughed slightly. He didn’t know why he believed Deca. Wishful thinking.

“How about your parents, Deca?” Owen asked.

“Dead.”

“O-oh. S-sorry.”

“Of age. It’s okay.”

“O-open with that next time!” Owen puffed an ember. “I thought it was something tragic, or, you know….”

Deca shook his head; the smile returned. “Well, you’re an adult, and you’re still a Charmander.”

“Don’t remind me,” Owen mumbled. “I’m a late evolver.”

“Late evolver?”

“Yeah. Do you think that’s real? Because it’s the only reason I think I’ve never evolved….”

“I guess it has to be real.”

A distortion of light was ahead of their next corridor. “That has to be the last section,” Owen said, “right?”

Deca nodded, putting his blindfold back on.

“Deca, why do you do that? With the blindfold.”

“Helps me concentrate. I can’t look at others that aren’t my kind without….”

“Oh, okay,” Owen said, deciding not to prod. The longer they stalled, the less time they would have before the fire caught up.

Once they passed through the distortion, a cool breeze welcomed them. With the Dungeon’s final section untouched by the flames, it seemed a lot safer than before. During their run, Owen had been speculating about who Deca was. But perhaps Spice had a point about the smoke and fire. And also, he supposed, being fried by a number of panicked Jolteon-born thunderbolts. All he could come up with were crazy theories, when perhaps the answer was something simpler, or just something else, if he only had the time to think about it calmly. But there was no such thing as calm tonight. He could only focus on one thing—the fire, and how to save the Pokémon inside the Dungeon from it.

“Wild Pokémon…” Owen repeated. “I hope they’re okay. They aren’t smart enough to go through Dungeons normally, right? So how would they escape the fire?”

“They may not have,” said Deca. “…But if they got to the exit before the fire did, they’ll be okay.”

Just then, a cyan sphere went straight to Owen, stopping at a mere claw’s width away from his face. His eyes bulged and he let out the smallest squeak.

“I—I apologize,” Rhys said, flicking his paw backward. The sphere exploded against a far wall.

Owen’s legs turned to jelly; he sat down, rubbing where the Aura Sphere would have hit.

“I thought you were another agitated feral. We’re somewhat overwhelmed.”

“Y-yeah…”

Deca took a steady breath, holding the side of his head. “H-hello,” Deca said. He stepped toward Owen and held his hand, helping him up.

Rhys stared silently at Owen’s double.

“H-hello, um, Lucario,” Owen said. “I—I’m Charmander Owen, i-if y-you heard of me. I—I tried o-out for the Hearts, but I didn’t make it y-yet…”

“It’s good to meet you, Owen,” Rhys said. “Continue trying. And you…”

“My name is Deca.”

“…It’s nice to meet you,” Rhys said, “ _Deca_.”

“Do you need any help?” Deca asked.

“No.”

“You said you were overwhelmed.” Deca held Owen’s hand a bit harder. Owen glanced at his blindfold, and then back at Rhys. Deca’s forehead was creased with a hidden glare.

“We can help!” Owen said. “What do you need?”

“The fire is closing in,” Deca said. “The Dungeon might shift if we remain on this section for too long. The fire is running out of fuel outside.”

“It is? That’s good to hear,” Rhys said. “We may be able to wait it out, if we find a way to stop the fire.”

“Take us to everyone else,” Deca said.

Rhys stared at Owen, then at Deca. His paws clenched, the blue flames of aura seeping through the cracks. Owen noticed, though it was hard at first, that Rhys’ body seemed very fatigued. There were little bits of… some strange sort of blue plating flaking off from parts of his fur, like armor. But the armor dissolved in the air when it chipped off. Was that some sort of technique Rhys used to get past the fire? It would explain how a Steel Type like him even made it through…. Owen also noticed that Rhys’ legs and arms shook with fatigue, and his breathing was deep.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked.

“Is now really the time, Rhys?” Deca asked. “Let us help. You can’t do this alone.”

Rhys snorted and turned around. “Let’s go.” He walked stiffly; the aura from his paws didn’t let up.

Owen followed next, and Deca, still holding Owen’s hand, followed after him. Owen tried to pull away, feeling awkward, but Deca just held on harder. “S-so, do you know Rhys?” Owen asked in a whisper.

“We’re familiar.”

“In, uh, in a good way? Bad way?”

“Bit of a rut.”

“O-oh.”

Rhys led them to a large room, perhaps the largest of the section, housing at least thirty other Pokémon, most of them native forest-dwellers, such as a Beautifly, Fomantis, Ariados, and Mightyena.

The Fomantis whined and hid under the Beautifly’s wings. The Ariados spoke softly, “How close is the fire?”

“I can smell it,” the Mightyena reported.

“One section away,” Deca said. “Does anybody know Water or Ground techniques?”

“It’s too strong for that,” the Fomantis said. “W-we can’t stop a fire that strong…!”

“Who knows those techniques? Mud Slap? Mud Shot? Water Gun? Anything.” Deca held Owen’s hand a bit harder, and he jerked away. Deca aggressively pulled Owen closer.

“H-hey, what’re you doing?” Owen said in a whisper. “Personal space!”

Nobody answered Deca. None of the Pokémon knew anything to put out the fire.

“None of you, at all, know attacks that can put fires out?!” Deca said.

Still no answer.

Owen gently pressed his hand against Deca’s, but this time to feel the pulse in Deca’s wrist. It was increasing. He seemed to be constantly under some kind of strain, and the additional stress wasn’t doing him any favors. It must have been the rain. Even now, it stung their tails.

Rain.

Suddenly, Owen turned around, walking with Deca. He followed, blind. Owen closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. He brought his tail forward and hid it under his chin again, keeping it away from his chest so it didn’t get even more water.

Water collected on him. It could put his tail out if he wasn’t careful.

Owen scanned the group, counting all of the Pokémon. He breathed deeply, and then double-checked what sort of Pokémon he had to work with. Grass Types. Bug Types. And a few Dark Types, too. Nightshade Forest was a mysterious place—the techniques learned here were stranger and more strategic, accompanying their usual offensive attacks.

Could that work?

 _Would_ that—?

Owen pointed at a Dustox. “Do you know Reflect or Light Screen?” he asked.

“H-huh? Of course! W-well, just the one. Light Screen.”

“I know Reflect!” a Ledian spoke up.

Owen nodded. “Who knows Sunny Day?”

At least half of the Grass Types raised their hands, paws, leaves, or tendrils.

“O-oh, okay.”

“S-Sunny Day?!” Rhys said. “Why would you—”

“Let him speak,” Deca said.

Rhys flinched.

“Barrier. Does anybody know Barrier?” Owen asked.

No answer.

“Nngh, not the best. H-how about Psychic?”

No answer.

Owen nibbled at his right hand’s claws. “Okay, okay…” he mumbled. The Charmander paced left and right, eyes darting in microscopic directions. Pieces pushed together in his mind.

He turned around, and then looked at the sky. “Everyone who knows it—try to use Light Screen or Reflect, but not on yourselves. Focus it on the sky. Try to shape it like a big bowl.

Owen scanned the room’s walls. Their little shelter was connected to two other areas by corridors. That wasn’t too bad. He watched the other Pokémon awkwardly try to use their techniques in this unintuitive way, like turning it upside-down. Almost instantly, the effects became apparent; rainwater collected above their heads. Realization washed over the group, and Owen saw a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

“Okay,” Owen said, trying to keep his voice steady from the excitement. “Try moving that barrier toward the halls! The left one, first, okay? N-no, other left! My left! Okay, keep going…”

Owen walked with the barrier, easing it closer. Rhys held up his hand and fired a strange Aura Sphere toward it; suddenly, the Reflect-Light Screen was enhanced by solid aura at the base. It was a barrier of its own—the same sort of barrier that had surrounded Rhys when he ran through the flames. But the way Rhys was breathing heavily, and his tense muscles, suggested that it put a lot of strain on him. Owen knew to work quickly.

“Sunny Day! Now!”

“Wh-what?!”

“Just do it!”

At least one of the Pokémon obeyed. Localized only to this section of the Dungeon, the clouds temporarily parted, and intense, enhanced afternoon sunlight pierced through from the sky. Energy returned to Owen almost instantly, and he looked to Deca. “Help me light this hallway on fire.”

“What?” Deca said.

“If we take out the grass now,” Owen said, “and put out the small fire _we_ started, the big fire won’t be able to get to us! Hurry!”

The clouds were starting to close in again.

Deca nodded. “Okay.”

He and Owen both spat flames on the grassy terrain of the halls, starting from a farther end, and moving backwards and back into the room. The wet grass was hard to spark, but their combined flames overwhelmed the residual water enough to set the hall alight. The trapped Pokémon all watched, and Rhys let out a small grunt. The aural barrier he provided was fading.

The fire grew quickly under the intense sunlight. Too quickly for the comfort of the others. A few of the younger Pokémon shrieked and hid behind the older ones. The clouds returned shortly after, and Owen looked up. He pulled Deca back. “Drop the barrier!” he said.

The water fell on top of the crackling flames; plumes of steam rose up, but it was just enough to put out the dying embers that were closest to them. The rest of the water flooded through the hall, thoroughly soaking the ground. Owen scrambled forward and slashed at the soil nearest to them with sharpened claws, hardened like metal. The water and mud splashed against his scales. Then, Owen plunged his paws into the dirt and pushed forward, huffing.

“Hey,” someone said from behind, moving Owen aside. It was the Mightyena. “I’ve got this.”

Owen panted, staring, but he nodded and stepped away.

With powerful paws, the Mightyena faced his rear against the hall and dug into the ground, creating a trench that quickly filled with water, and a mound of mud behind him. There was no way the fire could get past it.

“What’s happening?” Deca said.

“The fire’s out, and there’s a wall of mud blocking the way,” Owen said. “Let’s do it again! Other side! Reflect, Light Screen!”

“Right!”

And so, the barrier collected water for a second time. Rhys fired another Aura Sphere toward it to reinforce its strength.

“Nrgh…”

“Rhys?” Deca asked, but suddenly held onto Owen’s hand again.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Sunny Day!” Owen said.

The clouds parted.

And they repeated the process again. Owen and Deca washed the hall with fire; the flames cleaned the ground of floral fuel. The barrier above Owen and Deca flickered. Rhys lowered himself to one knee.

“Hurry!” Rhys said. The Dustox and Ledian maintaining the dual-barrier looked equally strained; they had taken on too much water this time, and the weight was wearing away at the transparent bowl above them.

Deca stepped away and into the room. “The fire’s too close,” he said. “Owen! Let’s put it out!”

“Okay,” Owen said. “But hang on, it’s still too short. The fire could jump over the gap. Let it burn a little longer!”

Rhys had both his paws up, and he was on both knees, head down. His arms were trembling. By now, both Reflect and Light Screens had faded away; Rhys alone was holding up the water.

The clouds returned. Rain filled the bowl. Owen was standing in the flames, trying to accelerate the burning with extra plumes. This side was filled with much more grass; it needed more time to burn. He heaved another wad of embers.

Then, Rhys’ concentration slipped. The aural barrier vanished, and all of the water poured onto the fire—and Owen.

 

Owen had a strange dream about taking a hot bath in the pit of a white, featureless room. His tail was just above the water’s surface. Then, he saw Deca on the opposite side of the bath, laughing. And Owen laughed, too. He heard footsteps behind him. He turned around, but the fragile dream faded away.

Then, he felt cold—like ice, to the very core of his body. And then something tingled, and he felt warm again, starting from his belly, and then over his chest, and then his face. It smelled like Oran Berries.

His vision was blurry. Owen could only see the outline of something orange. Was it a mirror? He often saw such visions when he woke up and stared into the hot springs. A blurry, wobbly reflection of himself. Flames danced over his face, and Owen sputtered in surprise.

He blinked the blur away and squinted. Deca? He was saying something, but it was all muffled. There was concern in his eyes, but when Owen gurgled some sort of wordless reply, his double let out a laugh.

“H-he’s okay!” Deca shouted.

Owen heard cheers from a crowd. His ears were ringing, but that faded and gave way to more precise noises.

He sat up with a start. “Wh-what happened?!”

He sat up too quickly. His vision faded, and he held his head, breathing heavily. That, above all else, was the loudest sound—his own breathing unnerved him. He caught a glance at his tail, which was emitting a steady stream of steam, but no flame. Deca breathed a small ember at the tip; it tickled a bit, but then it reignited. This sent a slight jump-start to the rest of Owen’s system, and warmth spread completely after a few seconds of stillness.

Rhys stood in the distance, looking like he hadn’t moved in ages. He was fixated entirely on Owen, fidgeting with his paws, clenching his claws into the pads. He’d never seen a Heart look so guilty. A small crowd of the Pokémon that had been trapped previously were around him, just as others surrounded Owen to get a better look.

It wasn’t raining anymore, but it was incredibly dark. Owen turned his head to the sky and saw stars peeking through the burned treetops.

“Where am I?” he said. “Is this the Dungeon?”

“No,” Deca said. “The Dungeon rejected you when you got hit by the water.”

“Water…” Owen said. “…W-wait, Water! The—what happened to the—”

“It worked,” Deca said. “The fire got close, but it couldn’t clear the gap you created on both sides. We waited until the fire died on its own, and after that…. We figured it would be safe where the Dungeon sent us out. And it was, so we circled back to the entrance to find you.”

Owen rubbed his fingers together, and then his arms. “Everyone’s okay?” he asked.

“Everyone that was with us made it out fine,” Deca said.

Owen breathed a small sigh. “Good,” he said. “I’m just glad that I survived. When the Dungeon rejected me, I thought some stray wild would’ve attacked me while I was down, or something. But—”

“Actually, we scared one of those ferals off!” one of the forest natives piped up. “It was such a weird creature!”

“Don’t be stupid, that wasn’t a feral! That was a guardian spirit, I just know it!” another native retorted.

“You and your ‘guardian spirit’ mumbo-jumbo.”

“No, it’s real! There have been sightings! A four-legged creature with a green and black body—exactly like I keep telling you! I’ve seen it!”

“Maybe you should lay off the funny berries.”

Owen tittered. “So, some weird creature was guarding me?”

“That’s the consensus. But it ran off before we could thank it,” Deca said.

Owen nodded and paused to silently thank this creature anyway. Perhaps it was some kind of forest guardian. “And what about the fire?” Owen asked.

“It’s burning,” he said. “But we got everyone evacuated. All the wilds are…. either dead, or ran away.”

“The fire started in multiple places due to some freak thunderstorm,” Rhys spoke up, and Deca refused to remove his eyes from Owen for the entirety of Rhys’ explanation. “This portion of the forest was trapped by a ring of fire, which was what caused us to send in the Fire teams to rescue the trapped Pokémon. We did our best to rescue who we could,” Rhys said, “but… obviously, we will have to perform a search for those who may not have escaped.”

Owen gulped. “What caused this…?” he said.

Deca and Rhys both didn’t answer, yet Owen had a feeling they knew. But what could it have been?

“It doesn’t matter,” Deca said. “What matters is we made it out.”

By now, the bystanders—tired from the stress—were starting to disband. Now that they knew their savior was okay, they refocused on how to recover from the disaster. Despite their burned home, they still knew where to go. Rhys volunteered to help guide those who were less sure of themselves. After a passing glance at Deca and Owen, he grunted and walked.

“Rhys!” Owen shouted.

He stopped.

Owen paused, finding the words. “Thanks for helping! It’s—it’s okay! Everyone’s saved because of you!”

Rhys’ paws relaxed slightly. He gave a short nod, not looking back, and then walked away with the rest of the rescued Pokémon.

Owen shook his head. “He seems like the type who’ll beat himself up for a while over dousing me,” he said. “But, I don’t think it would’ve worked without his help.”

“He’ll reconcile,” Deca said. “Trust me. That guy will just turn it into more fire for him to do better next time. It’s not healthy, but as long as he doesn’t burn up from it, right?”

They both laughed. Owen finally found the strength to get on his feet. He eased his way into it. Deca held him by the shoulder and back to keep him steady until he could stand on his own.

“Thanks,” Owen said.

Deca nodded. “Thanks to you, too.”

Owen noticed that the strain in Deca’s voice was gone now that they were alone. “It’s too bad you’re so tense around others. I hope you can get better at that, huh?”

Deca smiled wryly. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “I’m getting better.”

Owen nodded, pulling his tail forward to inspect the flame. It was a healthy orange.

“Owen,” Deca said.

“Yeah?”

Deca stared for a while. Owen sensed something from his doppelganger—a strange tension of some kind. Like he wanted to do something, yet couldn’t. Muscles waiting for an action, yet a mind that refused to follow through.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked. “L-look, if you’re gonna ask me out, I don’t know if I have the time for stuff like that. I’m training to be a Heart. I—I mean, you seem like a really nice ‘mon and all, but we barely know each other!”

Deca let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a laugh. He shook his head and fell forward, wrapping his arms around Owen. Startled, Owen could only take a step back, but that only made Deca squeeze tighter. He didn’t know _what_ to say, let alone how to react, so he just stood there. Eventually, he brought his hand around Deca and patted his back.

“Hey,” Owen said, figuring this had to do with Deca’s social anxieties, “it’s alright. I bet it’s hard, but you can overcome it, right? Maybe with some meditation? That’s what helps my aura calm down. I dunno if it’s the same thing, but—"

“They’re _so_ proud of you, Owen,” Deca said. He was shaking.

“They—what?” Owen asked.

Deca kept holding onto Owen. He felt Deca’s hands press flat against his back; something stirred in Owen’s chest, and that advanced to his throat, and then his eyes. His vision felt blurry—tears welled up, and this sent him into a mild panic. “D-Deca?”

“Don’t forget that,” Deca said. “Okay? Don’t ever forget…”

Owen blinked, confused. His emotions weren’t matching his thoughts. His mind had no reason to think of anything about Deca other than the fact that he helped with the fire. Yet all he wanted to do was bawl and cry and stay with Deca the whole night. His heart raced, and he held Deca back. He kept his emotions together enough to speak. “Okay. I won’t… forget. I won’t forget.”

Deca kept holding him for ten more seconds. After the first three, Owen was starting to wonder if he’d let go at all. And if he didn’t, he wouldn’t complain. He kept holding on, memorizing the scales on Deca’s back. They were exactly like his own. Curious, Owen felt for the strange patch of scales whose pattern didn’t quite match the surrounding area—a small, natural irregularity of the body, much like a birthmark. And he found it in the same spot.

Eventually, Deca let go and pulled away. Owen was startled to see the streams of tears running down Deca’s face—a flow that was even greater than his own.

“What’s—what’s going on?!” Owen said, wiping his eyes. “Deca! Who—who are you? Do you know my parents?”

Deca laughed again. “Oh, Owen… I’m…”

Owen saw Deca’s hand glow with a strange light. Deca sniffled once. The hand that didn’t glow wiped his eyes. Owen mirrored the movement, clearing his vision.

“Good night, Owen.”

“Wh—”

Deca tapped Owen on the forehead with his glowing hand. Owen’s thoughts grew muddled. In an instant, it all faded to nothingness.

 

Deca’s ears were still ringing from the roaring flames. Not only that, but his mind was completely fatigued. He had been doing the mental equivalent of holding his breath for at least half the night, now. The identical Charmander stared down at Owen in his arms, struggling to carry him along—after all, they were completely identical in weight and—more importantly—strength.

“Mnngg, more apples…” Owen mumbled. His tongue dangled from the side of his mouth, a bit of drool dripping onto Deca’s right arm.

Deca sighed, but he couldn’t hide his smile. But his heart sank back down. It wouldn’t be long, now.

He had to admit, it was a peaceful place. Calm, open field. A hot cave for him to live in, even if it was just due to the Fire Guardian’s antics. It seemed nice enough. There weren’t any particularly interesting landmarks this way, either, which made it quite secluded thanks to travelers just using Waypoints to skip over this path entirely.

“You’ve got a good life, Owen,” Deca said. “I’m… not going to lie to myself and say otherwise.”

“Too sweet,” Owen babbled. “Needs Cheri…”

Deca sighed. He carefully set Owen down, making sure his tail rested against the dirt and not the grass, and then eyed the great boulder ahead of him. His hand glowed with a Mystic power, and he held his hand forward, toward the boulder. He swung his arm to the side.

Nothing happened.

“Ngh.” Deca tried again. The glow, the swipe. Nothing. “Oh, come on, it can’t be _that_ strong,” he said. And so, he tried again. Not even a wiggle.

“How are you supposed to open this thing?!” Deca mumbled. “Password. There’s supposed to be a password, right? Ngh, what’s a…” Deca paced, tapping his chin. Every so often, he glanced at Owen, and each time he did so, it was like a breath of fresh air in his mind. “Open… now! Open… Hot Spot Caverns!” Deca said to the boulder. “Open… Sesame?” He knew it wouldn’t work, but he was desperate. After a full fifty seconds of staring, Owen snorted in his sleep. Deca jolted and spun around. But the sleeping Charmander didn’t stir.

And then, Deca watched Owen for a while, entranced by him. He stared at the gentle rise and fall of his back and the flickering, lively flame at the end of his tail. The small, subtle frown while he slept, like he was pensive about something in his dreams.

Deca took a single step forward, and then another. He was right in front of Owen, now. He leaned forward and picked him up; Owen hummed in response, bumping his head against Deca’s cheek.

And he stayed there. Despite the dead weight, Deca stayed there, wrapping his arms around the Charmander double, memorizing every single scale that he could. He felt hot tears welling up again. They poured slowly onto Owen’s shoulders, and then to the ground. Deca stared with a fierce glare against the air ahead of him. He finally let Owen go, setting him back down.

With a resolute glint in his eyes, he faced the boulder, sat on the ground, and concentrated. He took a steady breath…

 _O Holy Creator Mew._ Deca projected. _I call upon you to hear my prayer._ Deca paused for a bit longer, and then dug his claws against his thighs. It was just a formality, really. Any sort of thought toward her would have been sufficient. But, from what he knew, prayers tended to be louder, if he started politely. The same didn’t have to go for the rest of what he had to say, and his thoughts became a few tones harsher.

_A few days ago, Owen failed to become a Heart again. Didn’t pass Anam’s final check. Flying colors with the practical exam… yet never past Anam himself. Always the same story, year after year. No wonder he threw himself into an inferno today just to prove that he can do a Heart’s job._

Deca looked down, glaring at the dirt. Kricketot were chirping. Deca counted their cries four times in sequence, like a little conversation among the wilds.

 _Is that your plan?_ Deca said. _When Anam deems Owen worthy of becoming a Heart, he’s ready for the Orb? And do you think he’ll be ready for what comes next, too?_

Three chirps. Deca wondered if she was even listening, or if she was just stubbornly sitting in her own little realm, ignoring the world’s problems as usual. She needed an ultimatum.

 _One year. On the night of the next Ceremony… you better hope Owen has his hands on that Orb. Because I’m_ done _waiting, Star._

Deca ended the prayer there. He brought his arm to his eyes and wiped them dry, and then glanced back at Owen. He let out a gentle curse from his breath and stared ahead.

_…Can you tell the Fire Guardian to open her cave? Owen’s asleep and I don’t know how to open it._

With that final message, Deca stood to his feet and turned around to looked at Owen one last time. He figured he only had a few more seconds. He walked over and gently held Owen’s shoulder. His eyes clouded once more, but he shook it off.

“I’m sorry,” Deca said.

And then, when the boulder behind him rumbled, Deca bolted into the night.


	14. Twisted Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three respective teams attempt to bring their three Guardians home. However, all three of them have a harder time than they would have wanted. Time has not treated the minds of these Mystics well...

Anam heard the deep boom of metal bells.

The Abandoned Temple—the original name lost to the ages—stood four stories high, despite only having a single story inside. The building was made out of marble with intricate designs along the walls in the shape of spirals, flowers, and all sorts of Pokémon. There was a broken, circular window of colored glass on the top of the temple, as well as a few other, rounded, rectangular windows along the walls. What the windows depicted, unfortunately, was difficult to decipher, as most of the glass was gone.

While the temple may have once been a pristine, white marble, it was now reddened with the dusty winds of dirt and time.

“What a loud bell,” Anam said.

The boom reverberated through Anam’s mind: a deep metallic echo that shook the ground beneath his feet and the goo in his chest. It rang slowly, once, twice, three times…

Zena and James exchanged glances. The Milotic eyed Anam with concern. “What?” she said.

“Don’t you hear it?” Anam asked.

He listened to it chime three more times. His feelers twitched at the vibrations, and Anam pointed his head skyward, toward the topmost tower at the center of the temple. There was no bell there, but Anam could see it.

The temple was silent.

“No, Anam. This place is completely devoid of noise,” Zena said. “I think we’re the loudest thing on the property.”

Yet, the Goodra stared at the building for a while longer.

It rang three more times. Anam felt something well up from deep in his chest. A strange swelling of warmth. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes with a tranquil smile. And then, he breathed out.

The bell stopped after the ninth ring. Anam put a hand to his chest.

Confused, Zena slithered a few paces forward. “We should not waste much time. Shall we enter? The Normal Guardian is inside.”

“Yes. Come, Anam.”

Anam followed silently, but he walked at a slow, agonizing pace. His slimy hand brushed against the dusty walls of the entrance. There was no door, but it looked like there used to be.

The interior was like night and day, and Anam’s eyes shined so brightly that Zena almost had to avert her own. The marble walls on the interior were cleaned to a blinding shine; the open room was completely clear of debris. At the far end was some kind of altar. It looked like a Pokémon would stand there to address a crowd. Faded murals—so faded that the actual contents were unrecognizable—lined the high walls and broken windows.

“I’ve never seen a building like this before,” Zena said. “This is nothing like Kilo Village. Or even Hot Spot.”

“Hrm,” James hummed. “It is of a time long passed, Zena. A relic.”

Anam advanced, and Zena and James followed until they all reached the middle of the room. Anam had a smile on his face, walking straight toward the altar at the back of the room with an eager spring in his step.

_Click_.

Anam’s foot sank into the tile, and he stopped his advance. “…Was that bad?” he asked.

“Very,” Decidueye James replied, puffing out his feathers. “Anam, whatever you do, do _not_ l—”

Anam lifted his foot.

The fiery explosion that followed sent Anam, Zena, and James flying in completely opposite directions. The ground shifted instantly; the floors collapsed in patches and rose in others. Spikes skewered tiles from below, and strange, metal stalactites fell from above. A giant spike shot out from one wall and went straight for—

“Pfwoooh—!” It pinned Anam against the wall; the huge, stone thorn went right through his gooey chest, narrowly missing his heart—if he had one. He brought his slimy hands over it and tried to push it away, but it was jammed in too tight. His paw disintegrated into goo from the strain. “J-James!” Anam called in a gurgle, waving his handless, melting arm. “Help! I’m stuck!”

“Can’t quite help at the moment!” James replied, narrowly dodging a concentrated beam of light that carved the stone ground that it struck. Anam finally pushed the stone spire free and dropped to the ground with a loud _splat_ , his lower half becoming a purple mush on the ground. He needed a few seconds to recreate himself—it seemed that as a Mystic, the _goo_ half of his kind was very pronounced.

“Is this the Guardian’s doing?!” Zena called to James, emerging from the ground. She was hiding in cracks of the temple’s ruined foundation as water, hoping to avoid the Normal Guardian’s strikes. Another Hyper Beam spooked the Milotic enough for her to hide within the cracks again.

“I’m quite certain!” James replied. He vanished in a fine, black mist, dodging a second Hyper Beam. Something about these blasts felt dangerous even for his Ghostly nature. “He must feel threatened by this. Perhaps Rim already tried to defeat him. Clearly, she failed!”

Zena emerged halfway to speak. “We haven’t even seen him yet!” she said. “Where could he be coming from?” Another blast of concentrated light carved a line out of the ground, leaving molten marble in its place. “These beams are coming from every direction! Surely he can’t Teleport _and_ use Hyper Beam at the same time!”

“I doubt that is the case,” James said, “but it _is_ possible. But I’ve seen this strategy before… These might be a variant to Owen’s approach when he battles. Traps. Hyper Beam-traps, perhaps stored in empty Wonder Orbs, or—” James jumped to the right. A passing spike tore off a feather from his face. “Urf—the actual Guardian might be deeper insi—” Another line of hard light vaporized James where he stood, and he became nothing but an ember that returned to Anam’s body. Even a Ghost Type was not immune to these attacks.

“Oops,” Anam said, cupping James’ spirit in his good hand. He dipped him into his chest, where the ember vanished completely. “Um, Z-Zena! Let’s try to keep going!”

Thankfully, it seemed that the traps had exhausted themselves. Aside from the ambient sounds of rubble collapsing in small pieces against the walls, there were no further attacks.

Anam used his hands to piece his lower half back together. So far, he had most of his belly and tail reconstructed, but he couldn’t find any spare material for his legs. He puffed his cheeks and pushed—new little feet popped out from the base of his thighs, followed by the rest of his missing appendages. He sprung to his feet, and Zena marveled at the Guardian’s regenerative abilities. If _any_ of that happened to her, she’d be nothing but a dead puddle.

“Of course,” Zena finally said. She returned to the cracks and advanced further into the temple. They passed the altar and entered a back room. The further they went, the more it appeared to be… less abandoned. The entrance was a crumbling stone palace—mostly due to the traps that had gone off—but further inside, the walls were back to their pristine polish, constantly maintained, like it was an eternal routine.

Anam panted, tiny arms on the ground. “Th-this is way too much running… Why is this Temple so big on the inside? It’s not a Dungeon, is it?”

“You’re Mystic. Can you not just restore your own stamina?” Zena asked.

“Anam is… typically focused on other aspects of his Mysticism,” James said, summoned again by Anam. “He largely focuses on self-preservation and high defenses rather than… offensive prowess.”

Zena stared at Anam with a flash of a memory in her eyes. “That reminds me of an old friend,” she remarked. “Anam, do you happen to know an Emily?”

“Huh?” Anam said. “What did you say? Emily? That sounds…”

The flash was gone. Zena tilted her head. “Did I say what?” she asked.

“Let’s not get distracted,” James said. He pointed a wing forward. There was a single Pokémon there, floating at the back of the smaller room. Twitching. Watching. “Are you the Guardian?” James called.

It was a strange Pokémon with a smooth surface—one that Zena had never seen before. Anam and James, however, knew of its kind.

The Porygon-Z buzzed with anxiety. “You do not have permission to create a guest account!” he said. His voice was like a buzz in the air, as if he was speaking through the crackle of a Thundershock at all times. “403 - Forbidden! Access to the back rooms is not allowed! Those traps should have deleted you!”

“Deleted?” James said. “Strange terminology, Porygon-Z, but we mean you no harm. We have no intention of _deleting_ you, either. Yes?”

“Authentication required.”

James sighed, glancing at Anam. “The Badge, if you may.”

“Oh!” The Goodra dug through the bag partially submerged in the right side of his chest and pulled out the circular emblem. “This! Yep! That’s my Thousand Heart Association Badge! I’m the leader, and our entire purpose is to make this place safe and peaceful for everyone! Including you!”

Porygon-Z buzzed with uncertainty. “Your data has not been verified and may be corrupt. Checksum required!”

James blinked. “…I do not know what that is,” he said, “but I imagine this has something to do with your species’ strange origins. I can assure you that we are not lying. Anam is a fellow Guardian, as is Zena. Meanwhile, I am a spirit, here solely because of the power of a very kind Mystic.” He pointed a wing at Anam, who blushed and giggled.

“Hmmm…” Porygon-Z stared at the two, and then looked at Zena. “Are you a Guardian?”

“Yes, of Water,” Zena replied. “I am Zena. This is James and Anam. What is your name?”

“I was once designated as an Absolutely Deadly Autonomous Machine. Therefore, my name is ADAM,” Porygon-Z said.

“ADAM, huh?” Anam said. “That’s close to my name! Except you spell yours out. And it’s a D instead of an N. Can we just call you Adam?”

“That is my primary PC title,” ADAM said. “…Such a title is reserved only for users with administrative permissions.”

“Oh, okay,” Anam said. “Well, you can use my name whenever you want! I’m Goodra Anam.”

“It seems that the Porygon-Z still has a sense of culture,” James said. “How long have you been here?”

“The word ‘here’ must be further defined.”

“In this temple. How long has this been your home?”

“I have lived within this temple for approximately 1.5e10 seconds, base ten,” stated ADAM.

Anam counted on his gooey fingers.

“I see,” James said. “I imagine this is a very long time? How long does that compare to the lifetime of the average Pokémon?”

“Compared to my time in this temple, the average life of a Pokémon, is not negligible, but is significantly smaller.”

“So, a really long time,” Anam said, nodding. “Um, mister ADAM, does that mean maybe your… brain… head… has been damaged and corrupted?”

“My hardware is incapable of degrading due to Mysticism,” ADAM replied. “…But perhaps my software requires repairing, and my file system, defragmenting. The data may be corrupted. However, I cannot reinstall my own operating system. Those files may have also been corrupted.”

Anam nodded, noticing that ADAM was starting to become easier to understand. Perhaps when he wasn’t so frantic, his instincts didn’t in the way of his behavior.

“Well, would it help if you came with us to… rest… your software?” Anam asked. He leaned toward James, “What’s software? That sounds like a Nev-Nev thing.”

James shrugged. “ADAM, we only request that you come with us,” he said. “Such a temple is not suitable to a Pokémon such as yourself.”

“Oh, yeah!” Anam said. “And if more Hunters come by, we can keep you safe!”

“Hunters are not a security threat,” ADAM said. “More persistent are Pokémon that do not appear in my database, but instead appear to be corrupted files.”

“Mutants,” James said. “If I am not mistaken, you are describing mutants. I imagine such a landmark would pique what semblance of curiosity they have.” He nodded. “We can protect you against those, too, ADAM.”

The Porygon-Z analyzed James carefully, then Zena, then Anam. He then scanned—for the umpteenth time—his polished temple. While Anam could not see an expression on the Pokémon’s face, he did feel his distinct lack of interest in the temple at large. “Very well,” ADAM said.

“Nice!” Anam pumped his fist in the air. A wad of slime flung from his hand and toward ADAM, who drifted to the side to avoid it. The Goodra pulled out their silver Badge, the communicator. “Hey, everyone! We have the first Guardian! He’s okay! He’ll come with us, and he’s super cool! …Guys? Hello?”

“They may be occupied,” James said. “Let’s return home.”

 

_The World’s Wound._

That was the _other_ title of the Great Crevice, among many. Nature’s Scar. The War’s End. All sorts of titles and nicknames for the great fissure that carved out a large portion of the land’s eastern side. On the map—the only place one could truly see its full size without entering the outer atmosphere—its lower, tapered end kissed the southeastern beaches, while the upper end was much like an expanding fan, covering an entire portion of the map in the shape of a jagged, narrow triangle. While swaths of the northern portions of the fissure were clothed in forestry, the narrower portions were still steep and rocky.

Rhys and his terrible trio followed the subtle traces of Mystic aura that radiated from a cave near the northern side of the narrow portion of the fissure. Star knew that general detail, but knew nothing more. They had spent the better part of the afternoon simply _finding_ the cave. Thankfully, once they caught a trace of the Rock Guardian’s aura, going into the abode was trivial.

“Rhys? What’s wrong with having Owen with us for this? We’d be super strong together!” Demitri said.

“It’s simply not a good idea to have four non-Elites in one team for something such as this,” Rhys stated. “We need to have strong and competent members—both qualities in one Pokémon—on all teams. You three simply aren’t experienced enough yet. The same goes for Owen, who _just_ entered the Thousand Hearts Society.”

“I _guess_ …” Demitri said.

“Jus’ feels like…” Gahi said. “I’unno. Fighting with’m feels… _right_ , y’know? The four of us as a team. Yeah….”

“Well, that simply cannot happen right now,” Rhys said simply. “Let’s focus on the task at hand. That is—the Guardian of the Great Crevice, home of the Rock Guardian.”

The cave was thankfully more level than the fissure itself had been. Countless times, Gahi had to be rescued from teetering off the edge; Demitri had outright fainted from looking down, and had to be hauled along by Mispy’s vines. Rhys, much more adept, only advanced slowly for their sake.

The bottom was visible thanks to the angle of the sun, but it was still very far down. Rhys, however, could sense the Guardian’s aura, now that they were near.

Rhys held up his paw and created a small, luminous Aura Sphere to light the rest of the way. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Ngh, this isn’t gonna be very fun,” Demitri said, looking at the cave walls. “Rock Types. I guess I’m fine against them, and so is Mispy and Gahi, but…”

“Heh, yer the only one that’s neutral against’m,” Gahi said. “Sure, yeh know Brick Break, but it ain’t yer own Type. Not gonna be as strong, eh? Yer body ain’t adapted ter that.”

“Yeah…” Demitri looked away.” I guess—if we have to fight, then maybe… you know… I’ll stay back for now.”

They turned another corner; they finally saw it. It was very faint, but it was a glow visible even to those who couldn’t see auras, like Demitri and Gahi. They continued to walk in total silence.

It only broke when Demitri spoke up. “Rhys?” he said.

“Hm?”

“What’s a Divine Promise?”

“Hmm…” Rhys continued walking. “It is something that only Mystics can do—that is, those with powers related to the Orbs. Simply put… making a Divine Promise is keeping yourself to your word—or face the consequences. In the case of a Promise… breaking it would mean relinquishing your Mystic power to the Pokémon you made the promise with.”

“Y-you mean, if you broke your Promise with Zena, then…!”

“Then I would no longer have any form of Mysticism. I would not have enhanced power. I would be nothing but a simple, mortal Lucario.” Rhys turned to look back at Demitri. “That is why Zena was so surprised when I accepted the agreement. Even the cleverest Pokémon in the world cannot break a Divine Promise without also losing their power,” he said. “I phrased my Promise in such a way that there is no loophole—or, if there is one, I hadn’t thought of it.”

“W-wow… so you really don’t want to be a Hunter any more, huh?”

“I do not,” Rhys said. “Long ago, I fought for Star. But some fought harder, I suppose. And Star became disillusioned with her own cause, and asked for us to stop. We thought she was simply losing heart, and we pressed on. But I later realized that some Hunters… simply wanted more power. It had nothing to do with Star.”

“O-oh, and… and Nevren is the same way?” Demitri asked.

Rhys nodded. “It seems that Nevren has quietly distanced himself from the other Hunters, too,” he said. “I haven’t seen him with the others for quite some time, even if we chat with them now and then, in our own pocket of the spirit realm.”

“Wh—wait, when do you visit there?” Demitri asked.

“When I meditate,” Rhys said.

“Oh.”

“Did you kill… the Grass Guardian?” Mispy asked.

Rhys’ steps lost their rhythm, but he regained it quickly.

“I have many regrets,” Rhys said, “regarding my past as a Hunter. But I was not the one who killed the Grass Guardian. In fact, I was largely unsuccessful in those efforts. Wholly, actually.”

“Y-you mean, even if you’re super strong…?” Demitri asked.

“It wasn’t necessarily strength that stopped me,” Rhys said, “but perhaps… willpower. Mystic power is largely tied to the will. If, so to speak, your ‘heart is not in it’ when you fight, that Mystic power will not help you. In fact, it could hinder you. Meanwhile, a Guardian is fighting to survive. Their willpower could be… significant. In the end,” he said, “My will to gain power was lesser than their will to live.”

“Didn’t stop yeh from beating Owen ter a pulp of Cheri dust,” Gahi clicked.

“D’you think the others might have trouble with that?” Demitri said. “If a Guardian is scared they’re being attacked….”

Rhys shook his head. “We can only hope things work out,” he said.

“Too bad we didn’t bring Anam. He’d just convince them by being friendly,” Demitri said.

“Yes, well,” Rhys said. “I’m sure I can be friendly.”

None of his students looked convinced.

The light was growing stronger. Rhys held his arm out to stop the other three. Mispy stopped first; Gahi bumped into her rear, and Demitri tripped over Gahi. They squabbled amongst one another, but Rhys shushed them firmly, and they listened.

“The Guardian is just ahead.”

They walked uneasily forward. Rhys didn’t feel a particularly powerful aura ahead, but it was distinctly Mystic. He was very familiar with that general radiance. The cave was hidden simply due to the vastness of the fissure, but now that they were inside, it was plain who the Guardian was to the aura readers.

Demitri and Gahi were less informed. “Wow! Cool statue!”

In the center of the end of the cave—in a cavern large enough to fly in for a short distance—there was the statue of a Shiftry, accurate to the last detail.

“Whoever made this must be pretty good at the whole chisel thing,” Gahi said.

The cavern rumbled softly.

Rhys, baffled at how dense they were, said, “That is the Guardian.”

“Cease…”

The four stiffened. “Wh-uh—what was that?” Demitri said.

“Cease… your movements…”

The voice came from nowhere. It sounded masculine and deep, but nothing that they’d expect from a statue.

“What do you mean, cease our movements?” Rhys said.

“All movement must cease… to be one with the stone…”

The four looked at one another. Their mission was to befriend the Guardian…. Perhaps they could play his game for now. “Very well,” Rhys said. “May we get into a comfortable position before tuning ourselves to the stone?”

The cavern rumbled angrily. “I will allow it.”

“Into your meditative positions, everyone,” Rhys said. “We must comply, as we are mere guests. We can converse later,” he said.

“Meditate?” all three of them whined.

“CEASE.”

The three scrambled to separate spots. Mispy sat down with her rear down, but her front legs propping the rest of her up, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t very different from how she normally sat, but she kept her spine straighter than usual. Demitri sat down and tried to cross his legs, though they were too stubby for that, and it instead because a sort of position where the bottoms of his feet touched. It always tickled, but at least he could tune it out once he got in the zone. Gahi couldn’t do much of anything in terms of contorting his body. The Trapinch rested his head on the ground, splayed his stubs for legs outward, and remained still. Rhys sat, legs crossed, and closed his eyes.

Rhys watched the chaotic auras of the trio. They were warped things, those auras; the light that they radiated had strange, lopsided sparks now and then that spurt from the edges of their flares. When they meditated, this light stabilized—at least mostly—into the gentle flames that they should appear as. Demitri’s and Mispy’s, in particular, looked quite stable.

As the late morning bled into noon, Rhys realized that this would be their eternity if they did not try to speak with the Guardian.

And then, suddenly, the silence broke.

_Hey, everyone! We have the first Guardian! He’s okay! He’ll come with us, and he’s super cool! …Guys? Hello?_

Anam’s voice echoed from Rhys’ bag. The Lucario didn’t even react.

Gahi mumbled aloud out of boredom. “What kind of luck is this?” Gahi muttered. “All this fightin’ ter get here and the main Guardian’s as boring as Rhys.”

“I dunno about that,” Demitri said. “He’s probably even more boring.”

“ALL MOVEMENT SHALL STOP,” the Shiftry boomed. He didn’t move, yet it was clearly the one speaking—through the vibrations of the cave.

Rhys didn’t react. He kept meditating.

Gahi flinched and stayed put. Demitri softly said, “This test is to just not move…? For how long…?”

Mispy shifted where she sat, sighing.

The ground rumbled again and the Shiftry roared. “ALL MOVEMENT… SHALL _STOP_!”

The cave walls heaved, threatening to collapse around them. Mispy stiffened and shut her eyes, trying to meditate. Demitri and Gahi did the same. Rhys remained motionless.

A seemingly endless amount of time passed. Rhys watched, worriedly, as the auras of the three members of Team Alloy faded to the gentle undulations that indicated drowsiness. They weren’t meditating at all, now—they were about to fall asleep.

And then, without any sort of stimulation and the overwhelming feeling of boredom, Mispy’s head and leaf drooped slightly—and then, she fell over to her side, asleep.

The Shiftry roared through the mountain, screaming enough to startle Mispy awake. “YOU HAVE RUINED THE ATMOSPHERE OF STONE!” he roared.

Rhys cursed and stood up. Their chances of ending this without a fight evaporated completely.

 “I wanted to do this peacefully!” he said. He aimed his Aura Sphere at the Shiftry, but just then, he saw his paw glow with a strong, yellow light. Rhys flinched and stopped his attack, as if he’d seen his very soul nearly slip from his body. Was this Guardian so weak that a single blast would kill him? How was he supposed to subdue someone that his weakest techniques would annihilate?

“Rhys?! What’re you doing?!” Gahi said.

The Guardian wasn’t moving. In fact, the Shiftry in general hadn’t moved since they arrived, making it an easy target. It also made its attacks quite slow. There were a few seconds of dead air that they could think about how to approach and, for Rhys’ case, safely subdue this Guardian.

“I—I can’t fight him right now,” Rhys said. “My attacks could kill. I—I can’t do that.”

“Wh—nggh, fine!” Gahi said, rushing for the Shiftry. The ground heaved; rocks fell on top of Gahi, burying him.

“G-Gahi!” Demitri and Mispy yelled. They rushed after him, helping him free of the Rock Slide, but Gahi was already growling from within.

“Guardian! Stop this!” Rhys said, but his words fell on deaf, rocky ears.

A great, white light shined from the cracks—Demitri and Mispy stumbled back, covering their eyes.

“No!” Rhys hissed, watching Gahi’s aura flare and shift, crackling, black lightning coursing through the nearest rocks to the former Trapinch. One of the sparks zapped Mispy, and she was enveloped in that same evolutionary light—followed shortly by Demitri right next to her. Rhys watched anxiously, but then looked at the Shiftry. If Aura Sphere was too much, then perhaps he could do something weaker. The Lucario rushed toward the rocky Shiftry at great speeds, ramming against him, using the spikes of his paw to do some damage during the swift strike. Extremespeed would surely do less damage.

The Shiftry roared; more rocks fell from the ceiling. Rhys deftly avoided the attack with precise jumps, readying an Aura Sphere out of reflex. His paw lit up again—his Divine Promise in danger of breaking—and he held off, growling. He had to keep his students safe—but he couldn’t attack the Guardian too much. But he wasn’t going to listen to reason. His mind, like many Guardians who had become isolated for too long, had warped into something else thanks to their isolation. Surely the spirits that resided within his mind had conformed in one way or another to the Guardian’s whims, and now he was focused on only one thing—stillness. Any violation of that angered him—but they couldn’t stay still for long. They had to subdue him. They could handle him after that. Perhaps a friendlier voice like Amia or Anam—or even Star, in person—could help this broken mind.

The white light of evolution sparked black. Rhys glanced worriedly at them, but then it faded away. Emerging from this light was no longer a Trapinch, Chikorita, and Axew—but three new creatures. The Vibrava, Bayleef, and Fraxure took only a few seconds to marvel at their new forms. Gahi beat his new wings as if he’d had them his whole life. Demitri stared—and gasped in fear, slightly—at his new distance from the ground. Mispy struggled with her longer legs and neck, feeling awkward and lanky. But they adjusted quickly, and they let their instincts take over in the midst of battle. They jumped back into the fray.

Demitri ran toward the Shiftry and tensed his arms, slashing at the Rock Guardian with the best Brick Break he could muster; Gahi distracted the Shiftry by taunting the Shiftry with his complete defiance of stillness. This drew most of the Guardian’s attacks toward him—and dodging them. The Vibrava was even faster than the already unnaturally speedy Trapinch he once was; his angular wings and slim body made for a very difficult target to hit. Mispy created protective, physical barriers around the whole team, blocking quite a few of the Shiftry’s attacks. Reflect seemed to be very useful against the rocks.

“Hah!” Gahi said.

Demitri landed another blow, wincing at the hardness of the Guardian’s body. His paw felt bruished, and he may have chipped a claw or two. However, it seemed that was enough to bring the Guardian down. His final roar was cut short—the statue of a Shiftry fell back. It was quite easy to hit a still target, and this Guardian was surprisingly weak anyway.

“I-is he… is he alive?” Demitri asked. “I—I didn’t think I’d…!”

Mispy quickly walked over, stumbling over her feet. With her eyes closed, she could sense that the Guardian’s aura was weak—but present.

“He’s fine,” Rhys stated, standing up. “Let’s bring him back before he wakes up.”

Demitri nodded, sighing with relief. Then, a new sensation flooded through him, and his arms trembled with excitement. “We evolved! We finally did it!” he shouted.

Mispy beamed, awkwardly stumbling forward to headbutt Demitri in the chest. Gahi buzzed his wings and rammed into Demitri next. “Heheh, and I evolved first,” he said.

“Barely,” Mispy countered.

“First is first,” Gahi said, flying above them.

“And how are you two feeling?” Rhys asked.

“Never better!” Gahi said. Demitri and Mispy nodded.

Rhys could sense the excitement from them, even though it was a bit subdued due to a combination of mental exhaustion from the meditating and physical exhaustion from the battle, easy as it may have been in the end. Rhys suspected, however, that their less than explosive celebration was due to the fact that Owen had already beaten them to it. There was nothing to celebrate in their competitive hearts—only a fire to beat Owen to evolving when it _really_ counted.

Demitri shook his head and leaned down to get a hold of the statue. “Urgh—he’s solid rock!” he said.

“Uh, duh,” Gahi said, descending.

Mispy smacked Gahi behind his head with a vine—as a Bayleef, they were _much_ thicker, and the Vibrava slammed into the ground with a groan.

Demitri managed to balance the fallen Shiftry over his shoulder, using his massive tusk to keep the statue level. With his free hand, he pulled out their Badge—both the silver and gold ones. “Oh! That’s right!” he said. He fumbled with the silver one, pressing a claw on the center button. “Hey, guys! We did fine! Our Guardian is just fine!”

Rhys nodded. “Let’s meet the others at the village,” he said.


	15. A Place to Call Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and the others head to Hot Spot Cave to unwind and get to know each other. Owen learns something new about himself and his fellow late-evolvers in the process. Everybody becomes uncomfortable.

Fae, Fae Forest was a calming experience, for the most part. The wild Pokémon were no match for Amia’s flames, and Owen managed to take on a few as well. He used the aggressors as practice for his vines. He had learned a new technique this way, though he couldn’t find a practical use for it yet, as it took too long. Owen was now able to turn his arm into a large vine. And that was all. He figured he’d build upon it later.

While the wilds themselves were not a problem, their pranks were. Everything within the Dungeon was a sea of bizarre, Pecha-pink leaves and beige wood. It smelled like candy. Wild cries of many Fairy and Bug Pokémon faintly sounded in all directions like ethereal, haunting cackles.

The seeds that appeared in this Dungeon were also something that some of the more intelligent wild Pokémon took advantage of. Near the middle of their exploration, a Whimsicott tossed with _precise_ aim a strange seed that exploded right in front of Owen’s face. The strange mist that followed made the Charmeleon’s reptilian pupils dilate into saucers, and he had to be carried by Amia and Alex for two whole segments while he babbled about the leaves teasing him. This slowly transitioned into him laughing about how everybody looked like giant, rainbow Goodra, and how he could taste the light with his ears.

When Owen came back to his senses, he had no memory of the past two sections. Amia and Alex spared him the details, and instead told him that it was a Sleep Seed, rather than some sort of potent X-Eye Seed.

Thankfully, aside from a few thrown seeds, the Dungeon itself wasn’t any problem for them. The forest’s twisted dimensions melted away with the passage of the seventh segment. They emerged in a field that was—in stark contrast of the pink foliage that surrounded it—one of normal, green blades of grass that went up to Amia’s knees. But the tall grass hid subtle details beneath it. There were large, multicolored mushrooms dotting the pasture, and the rocks were colored like rainbows.

This place was unexplored and untouched by most Pokémon affiliated with Kilo Village. Few wild Pokémon made this place their home, since it did not possess a Dungeon’s eternal, maze-like qualities to keep such Pokémon trapped inside its own warped ecosystem. This made the garden’s foliage move only to the wind.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be here,” Owen mumbled, looking around. “Don’t you kinda get that feeling…? Like… like this just isn’t a place where Pokémon like us should be walking?”

“I see your point,” Alex mumbled, rubbing his cannons together anxiously.

“Hmm, let’s just keep going,” Amia said, “and see where it takes us! It can’t be that bad, can it?” she giggled.

“M-maybe,” Owen replied. “Mom? How come… you never told me about all this? Just, you know, about being a Guardian, or that _awesome_ Fire power!”

 “W-well, it’s simply because, that is, er, Owen…” She sighed. “We just wanted you to live a normal life. We’d tell you eventually, but… don’t you think you deserved to just live like a normal Pokémon, at least for a little while?”

“I _guess_ ,” Owen said. “It’s just, it’s hard because I still know they’re dead.”

“Oh, but they’re hardly dead, dear,” Amia said.

Owen sighed. There was no winning with that argument.  He conceded, “I’m glad I at least had a sense of a community… Can they hear me now?”

“They can, dear,” Amia said. “And they’re so proud of you for taking this so well.”

“…What I did counted as taking it _well_?” he asked, thinking about how he’d toppled Nevren over and had to get one of the Waypoints freed up thanks to his Vine Trap.

“Well, compared to how it could have gone,” Amia said.

They walked some more. He saw a blue mushroom along the immediate path. Bored of the foliage, he kicked at it carelessly.

“Ooo!”

Owen stopped walking. That voice did not sound like anybody he knew. In fact, it didn’t even sound like a _voice_. More like a cry, or some sort of primal, sing-song grunt. Amia and Alex, too, stopped, and they all looked down.

The blue mushroom’s top grew a mouth. It then screeched at him. Owen jumped and held his arms up, as if to apologize. The mushroom grew to twice its size—almost to Owen’s knees, now—and then exploded with a loud _POP!_ It spattered fungal bits harmlessly in all directions. A bit got in Owen’s mouth; it tasted like old cheese. He spat, rubbing his tongue with his claws desperately.

“I don’t think I like this place,” Owen finally said, looking back. Alex was hiding his gargantuan, flaming body behind Amia, who only looked mildly startled. They continued onward.

Owen thought about what was said previously—about only being able to summon solid copies if enough energy was put into them, some sort of divine energy from the Orbs, or spiritual energy. He hadn’t tried that technique yet. His mother, however, could.

“Mom?” Owen said.

“Yes, dear?”

“How come you were able to make the whole village solid if it takes so much energy to do it?”

“Oh, Owen, they aren’t very strong,” Amia said. “We used to live in a very hidden-away, very peaceful village. The Pokémon there didn’t fight—and so, their spirits were hardly trained to the same degree that you are in combat. The weaker a Pokémon is, the easier it is to make them solid. That’s probably why even Anam, as strong as he is, couldn’t fully materialize Star.”

“Oh,” Owen said. He paused, making connections. “Does that mean Dad is weak, too?”

“W-well, I…! I mean…!” Alex protested. “I’m fairly strong! I’m the strongest of the village—er, before Amia.”

“So, if I fought you, I’d lose? Or win?” Owen asked.

“You… would have a challenge,” Alex said. “A-again, I’m strong, for my village.”

“For your village of non-fighters,” Owen clarified. “Is that why I never got to spar with you?”

Alex rumbled nervously.

Owen sighed. “Maybe you should have mentioned that when we were making teams.”

Just then, something shuffled in the grass ahead of them. Little flowers rose up from the grass—at first, Owen though they were pretty, but upon closer inspection, the petals were wilted and sticky. They’d been on the grass for a while.

Someone giggled—it was a high-pitched noise and came from three directions at once.

A chill ran up the Charmeleon’s spine.

“Heeheeheeheehee…”

“N-n-nggh, th-that just gives me a bad feeling,” Owen said.

“Hmm, perhaps that’s the Guardian,” Amia said. “I’m certainly… sensing a different presence here.”

“A Mystic aura, for sure,” Alex said, nodding to Owen. “That’s what we call that special atmosphere given off by people like us—Mystic auras.”

“It’s what Star called it, at least,” Amia said. “I think she just liked how it sounded.”

“Oooh, and who are _you_?” The voice giggled again. Childish. Feminine. Jittery. “I can’t believe it. People are here to see me! That’s so cool! It’s been so long since I had new toys to play with.”

“Toys?” Owen repeated. He saw something yellow with pink wings fly past him.

“We aren’t here to play,” Alex said. “We are here to bring you with us. To bring you someplace with other Guardians. Did Star warn you about this?”

“I stopped talking to Star a long time ago. She’s no fun!”

“Can you at least show yourself?” Owen squeaked. “Where are you?”

“Where am I? I’m right here! And here, and here, and now I’m here, and now here!”

Owen heard voices from all over—she was moving so quickly, the wind picking up with each new voice. Was this her—or was it spirits acting like her, or some kind of Double Team? Owen carefully tapped his foot on the ground, preparing a Fire Trap, just in case—Wait. No. Owen glanced down and did his best to concentrate. Slowly, his foot turned green and leafy. He tapped his foot again. Vine Trap. That won’t burn the fields. Then, he returned to his red, scaly self.

“What’re you doing?” Owen called out. “I don’t want to fight! I—can’t you just come with us?”

“This is _my_ home!” the Fairy Guardian replied. Every sentence came from a new location. “If you want me to come with you, then you’re just going to have to find me!”

Suddenly, the world around them flooded with a strange, pink, glittery fog. Owen reflexively held his breath and shut his eyes, trying to fan the fog away. It felt thick and it made his tail crackle.

“O-Owen!” Amia yelled.

“M-mom?” Owen opened his eyes—but she was gone. So was Alex—in fact… everybody was gone and, once again, he found that he was alone in a strange world. Blades of grass were as tall as trees; the little bits of dirt on the ground were like boulders. One of the mushrooms—a yellow one, this time—grew two slits for eyes and another slit for a mouth and jeered at him. It was ten times Owen’s height.

“…I shrank,” Owen said. He looked around, as if verifying what he’d just said. “Oh, good. Can’t have a normal day anymore, can I?”

Laughter filled the air.

Amia screamed. She was far away, from Owen’s perspective. “Mom!” Owen shouted.

He ran, but then realized that the yellow mushroom was gone. He spun around, sensing something—it was right behind him. It opened its mouth, revealing countless tiny teeth, and dragged its body forward with an unknown force.

Owen ran as fast as he could, looking back to see the mushroom hot on his tail. He turned around and heaved a plume of fire toward the mushroom. It shrieked and flailed its huge tiny body, disintegrating into a pile of ash at a rate that startled Owen. He saw a little, blue ember rise from these ashes. It went right for him; Owen ducked, then spun to watch where it was going.

“Oh, come on,” Owen said.

Right in front of him was the largest Joltik he’d ever seen. Its tiny, blue claws were as tall as Owen was.

“Huhuhu…” the Joltik—Star had called her Willow, didn’t she?—said. “You look _tasty_.”

Owen blasted Willow with another plume of fire. He turned around immediately after, using the distorted light and smoky aftereffect as a distraction to run away. He tripped over a grain of dirt and twisted so he’d land on his back—wincing when he crunched on his tail instead.

He saw a huge, blue claw crashing down on him. He had no way to escape it. He quickly brought his arms up in a cross-formation and focused—

He felt an immense pressure on his back, sinking deeper into the dirt, but no claw pierced through his body. Instead, a shield of swirling, greenish light surrounded Owen in a protective, albeit fleeting, barrier.

“Ehh?” Joltik said. She poked at Owen’s Protect barrier. “No fair! Stop hiding!”

It wasn’t as if Owen had a choice. The light was already fading, and it would be too much of a strain to use the barrier twice in a row. How useless—he couldn’t do anything while Protecting himself. All he could do was stall for time, and now he was—by his perspective—trapped many feet underground.

_Hey, everyone! We have the first Guardian! He’s okay! He’ll come with us, and he’s super cool! …Guys? Hello?_

That voice—Anam? They found their Guardian. But why did they hear him? The communicator! Was it still normally sized? Owen just realized that he didn’t have his bag with him, but he could still feel the subtle presence of the Eviolite nearby. He must be close. If they could just get to the Badge, perhaps they could escape and get backup.

_Owen_ , a voice rang in his mind. _Focus on the dirt!_

That voice sounded familiar. The Jumpluff who had guarded the Grass Orb previously. _Klent?_

_Listen to me! Focus on the dirt! Become Grass! Sink into it!_

_Uhh—_

“Owen!” someone else called. It was Amia, but from where he was, he couldn’t tell what direction it came from. Was it behind? Or in front?

Willow stomped again, but this time it actually hit. Owen wheezed—thankfully, he was so small that the claws lost their piercing capabilities. He couldn’t focus on the transformation. But he had another idea. Heat welled up in his chest again, and he scorched the Joltik’s claw.

“YOW!”

That was his chance. When she jerked away, Owen scrambled out of the hole of dirt, getting to the top just in time to spin around and cross his arms. The resulting force sent Owen flying back unharmed, and he used that to his advantage, taking the momentum to run away as fast as he—

Willow sprouted pink wings and rammed straight into Owen. Her wings then evaporated, and she resumed the chase, stomping on the ground just behind Owen any time she could.

“Please! Stop stomping on us!” Owen yelled.

“No!” said a gigantic creature said. “This is too fun! Just wait until I nibble on you!”

“We just want to—” Owen narrowly dodged one of the claws of the giant Joltik. “PLEASE! Just turn us back to normal! We’re here to help!”

He didn’t know where his parents were, but he knew he heard Amia calling somewhere ahead.

Anam’s voice had to have come from somewhere nearby. Owen hoped that would be enough to guide the others back to the same place, too. He tripped over bits of dirt and had to walk all the way around individual blades of grass. Weeds were like trees, pebbles like mountains. Surely this wouldn’t last forever, right?

The Joltik giggled and continued to pursue Owen. He’d lost his way. In this part of the world, the sun was setting, and the oversized garden looked more and more like shifting monsters of the night. Willow was probably only chasing _him_ because of the flame on his—wait! Maybe if he focused enough…!

Owen shut his eyes and focused. He tried to meditate—hard as it was, while running—and felt his body change and cool. The flame went out, and that same daffodil sprouted. He didn’t like it, but it was necessary. His red scales became leafy green, and all of his Fire attributes vanished—along with the light.

“H-hey! No fair! I just wanna play!” she said. “Where’d you go?!”

Good. Willow must not be good at seeing auras. If he could just keep that up…

_Hey, guys! We did fine! Our Guardian is just fine!_

“YOW!” Owen yelped, holding the sides of his head. “Demitri! Why so loud?!”

He turned to his right and saw a Badge almost as big as a house. His heart skipped a beat. He was there! He made it!

Now what?!

“Mom? Dad?!”

“Right here, dear!” Amia called, rushing over.

“I found you!” Willow said.

Amia fired a jet of flames at her, but despite the Type advantage, she brushed it off with a laugh. The flames evaporated too quickly when fired from a distance.

“Is that all you have?” she teased. “You’re a hundred times weaker like that! You can’t do anything to me! Now c’mere…”

“Oh, dear,” Amia said. “O-Owen, d-do you happen to have an idea…?”

Alex blasted Willow with a wave of fire next, sending two jets from his cannons, but it had a similar effect. Owen gulped and looked down. What did he do before? He’d stomped on the ground, preparing a Vine Trap. He did! And if the Badge was here, that meant it was probably right where they were standing. Maybe, with a little bit of good timing— “Mom, Dad, stay behind me, okay?” he said.

“Owen?” Amia said, but listened.

Willow laughed. “Are you gonna be my toy first?” she cooed.

Owen wordlessly stomped. This triggered the ground to lurch upward; Willow screeched and struggled, but it was too late. The dying sunlight instantly became blotted out by the rising vines. They entangled the Joltik’s body, twisting around her many limbs, immobilizing her. She screamed and flailed, but nothing came of it; the vines were still normal-sized, and she was too tiny to break free.

“N-no! L-let me go!” Willow screamed. “That’s not fair!”

“You shrank us!” Owen said. “Who are you to talk about fair?!”

“Let me go!”

“Turn us back to normal!” Owen said.

“LET ME GO!”

“TURN US—”

“Owen, dear,” Amia held his shoulder. “May I?”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Owen said, shrinking behind her.

Amia stepped forward. The Joltik was still struggling, but the Gardevoir waved to get her attention. “Um… Willow, dear,” she said, looking up. The Joltik’s right front leg weakly twitched against the vines. “We wanted to bring you home with us,” she said. “I’m Amia, the Fire Guardian, and this is my son, Owen, Grass Guardian. Alex, his father, is a spirit of mine. Star sent us here to see you. Your name is Willow, right? Hunters are trying to pick us off one by one, since they might know how to track us down. Sensing us, somehow, you know, dear? So, it’s better if we stay together!”

“…Will you squish me?” Willow asked.

“You have my word that I won’t,” Amia said. “I’ll even make a Divine Promise out of it.”

“What’s that?”

“Um… Gardevoir’s Honor?”

The Joltik stared. “Y’mean it?”

“I do. Please, Willow. There are so many friendly Pokémon waiting to meet you!”

“Mnnn… okay,” she said. “Hang on.”

She focused, and a white light surrounded the three of them. In another instant, they were back to their normal size, and Owen was staring at a three-foot-tall wad of vines. He was standing in the middle of it, trapped. Amia and Alex were behind him, out of the plant life.

“Uh—I’m stuck,” Owen said.

“H-help!” a tiny voice cried. She was near Owen’s foot, still caught in his trap. She was _tiny_ , even for a Joltik—no wonder they didn’t notice her before. She could stand on the top of his horn!

“C’mon, Willow,” Owen said, bending down to carefully unravel her from the trap. “Let’s show you Kilo Village.”

Willow sniffled and zapped Owen’s hand.

“O-ow!”

Willow hopped off and stood on top of the vines. “That’s for burning my claw! I can walk on my own!”

“O-okay, okay…” Owen sighed. Her body was barely a handful, but her personality was much more than that.

With everything in order, Alex helped pull Owen out of his own trap. The family and Willow warped back to Hot Spot Cave to rendezvous with the others.

 

 “The location you describe does not sound normal,” ADAM said. He twitched a few times. “The structure is not to code.”

“It’s a cave, dear,” Amia said.

“Does it have little nooks and crannies to explore?” Willow asked.

“Certainly, dear,” Amia said.

“Is it of stone?” the Rock Guardian asked.

“Yes! Oh… Mister Shiftry, what would you like us to call you?”

“You may call me Valle,” the Shiftry said. “I wish not to move for much longer. I must be one with the cave so I can familiarize myself with its form. If it is not to my satisfaction, perhaps I shall return.”

“Well, if it’s not, why don’t we help you later, huh?” Amia asked. “But the cave definitely stays still!” she laughed.

Valle’s stone face cracked into the tiniest of smiles.

“…How are you moving?” Demitri asked.

This entire time, Valle was standing like a statue, yet his entire form was dragging across the ground, creating an uninterrupted line in the dirt. James took the liberty of dusting that dirt path away in case some unsuspecting traveler tried to follow it toward the boulder.

“I move with Mystic power,” Valle replied.

“He’s just using some energy to push him forward invisibly,” Amia explained. “The same energy I use if I need to fly!”

Owen’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. “Y-you can FLY?!”

Amia jumped in the air and floated there. “Yep! It’s actually pretty easy once you get the hang of it!”

“Mm,” Zena nodded, floating a few feet in the air next. Anam stepped on an invisible staircase while they headed into the cave. Willow skittered through the air. ADAM—he always floated, and had little to demonstrate.

Owen’s tail drooped with his shoulders. “That’s crazy. How come you guys never flew before?”

“Well, did we ever need to? That hidden garden was inside a Dungeon. You can’t fly into it without getting caught in the distortion.”

“Yeah, but, it seems really cool to do. How long until I learn?”

“Well, why don’t we teach you?” Amia asked. “That’ll be part of our training! To learn how to ignore gravity, and move with your own willpower!” She giggled.

Owen snorted, but agreed.

The mushrooms didn’t glow until Amia returned to the cave. The Gardevoir sighed happily. “Home, sweet home. I haven’t left this cave for that long in a while!”

“I was starting to feel homesick,” Alex said. “How about you, Owen?”

“Yeah,” Owen admitted. “I mean… I guess the Thousand Heart Association is nice, and so was Rhys’ old place, but I kinda like it here the most.”

Mispy prodded at one of the mushrooms. To each touch, it glowed a bit brighter.

“I like the mushrooms,” Willow said, landing on a particularly large one. “What makes it glow?”

“Oh, just a bit of Mystic energy,” Amia said. “I thought the cave was a bit bare without them, so I wanted to give a little lighting! If I didn’t, the only glow we’d get was from the lava rivers deeper inside.”

“Lava rivers?” Valle repeated. “Stone in movement. I do not know if I am comfortable with being near such rivers.”

“Everything’s about not moving with you, isn’t it?” Owen said.

“Movement is not necessary.”

“Yeah, speak fer yerself,” Gahi said, rapidly beating his wings without any effort.

Owen smiled at Gahi. He couldn’t believe that all three of them had evolved! Still, he beat them to it, and he wasn’t going to let that tiny victory go. He’d certainly be the first one to evolve into a Charizard, too. He probably already had the power for it. He just needed a spark to trigger it.

“And here,” Amia said, “is the main square!”

Owen had seen it many times before, but after the adventures of the day, it was such a relief to see the town as he remembered it—particularly after running for his life from a twisted, giant Joltik.

“Mine!” the Joltik in question said, hopping into a nook that likely once belonged to a tiny spirit.

“I shall check out this file for editing,” ADAM stated, floating into the one next door.

“This is adequate,” Valle said, standing in the middle of town.

“Are… are you sure?” Amia asked.

“Yes.”

They all stared. Given that Valle didn’t move much, it should probably be fine. He was just going to be like a statue, then. Literally.

“Well, let’s go to our home, next,” Rhys said. “Anam, James, that reminds me. Now that our numbers are growing, will you be taking up residence here as well?”

“No, I’m going to stay in the Heart,” Anam said. “I should be okay with all the other Hearts that live there, right?”

“Anam, as much as that is appealing,” James said, “I have given it some thought, and I do not think that is a good idea. We can’t endanger Kilo Village any longer—we should stay here, with the others.”

“B-but…” Anam hesitated.

“Anam, do you want the mortals to be killed because of your carelessness?” James said.

“N-no! I… I don’t!”

“Then we will live here. Is that understood?”

Anam sniffed, but nodded. “What will I tell the others…?”

“They won’t miss you if you’re there during the day,” James said. “It’s only at night, when most Pokémon have their guard down, that we must be careful.”

“You guys still sleep?” Willow asked, peeking out her tiny window. “That’s so boring! Can’t you just play at night?”

 “I can’t believe you guys skip sleeping,” Demitri said. “Sleeping is great! And so is eating!”

“We certainly _can_ do those things,” Zena said. “There’s simply no need to.”

“Can I still eat and sleep?” Owen asked. “Once I start getting more Mystical, can I still do that stuff? I want to feel normal a little while longer. I dunno. I’m still feeling kinda hungry.”

“You’re still new,” Zena said. “You need time to strengthen your Mystic power. Then you will make those mortal needs… optional.” She gave Owen a small smile, if only to encourage him. Their training together showed how much Owen was dwarfed by all the other Mystics, but he was quick to catch up. That was the natural response, according to Star, for a weaker Mystic among titans of the same nature.

Owen shifted where he stood. “Yeah…” he mumbled, rubbing his left arm with his hand.

Amia gently pat Owen’s back. “Why don’t I make you some dinner? How about for you all, too?” she asked, looking at Rhys and his students.

“Rhys, d’you need to eat?” Demitri said.

“Yeah, now that I think about it…” Gahi said. “You eat, but y’don’t eat all that much. And yer Mystic, too. An old Mystic.”

Rhys nodded. “I eat a small amount, if only to… appear normal,” he said. “But I suppose with this all in the open, I can drop the façade and focus on my training.”

“How come yer so good at cooking, then?” Gahi said.

The Lucario shrugged. “If eating is not a necessity,” he said, “then when I _do_ eat, I’d like to make it worthwhile.”

 

Worthwhile indeed. Once everybody was settled into their new homes, and Amia filled the vacancies with her old spirits, she called for a small get-together in the town square, gathered around Valle. Before Owen and the others who had to sleep got tired, she wanted to sit around to get to know everyone. Rhys, with the assistance of Mispy and Demitri, hauled out a large pot of stew for everyone—Mystic or not—to enjoy. Around the time that the food was fresh and ready, Nevren _conveniently_ arrived to get his bowl, and then ate quietly from the sidelines. He was always an observer. Owen could relate.

Rhys and Amia helped to pass around stone bowls for everyone to eat another hearty stew—Rhys’ celebratory specialty. Large helpings were given to those who actually had to eat—Owen and Demitri were given bowls, while Gahi was given a flatter plate to accommodate for his bug-like head type. They gave a large bowl to Mispy, knowing that her appetite was beyond comparison, and made sure to set aside enough for when she’d inevitably ask for seconds, and then thirds.

Anam got himself a small bowl to at least appreciate the taste, and shared some of it with James. Amia elected for a similarly tiny bowl and ate with Rhys and Alex. She fed Alex by hand, if only so the Magmortar didn’t have to struggle with his cannon-arms. Owen elected to sit between Alex and Zena during the meal, if only so he could avoid the passive-aggressive nudges that Mispy gave him, perhaps as spite for evolving first. No, _definitely_ because of that. From what Owen knew, Mispy’s species evolved fairly early to its final stage. She was the greatest contender to beat him in this silly race. Which he would definitely win.

They weren’t really sure what to do about Valle. Amia offered a bowl to the Shiftry statue, going so far as to place the bowl in front of Valle’s face to let him smell it. The bowl trembled in Amia’s hands—with a squeak of surprise, the stone bowl went straight toward Valle, vanishing into his face. The stew, too, was gone.

“Thank you for the offering,” Valle said.

Owen didn’t even know where to begin with that display. Did he just _absorb_ the stew? Did he have a mouth, or was it just _there,_ now? Did he taste? Did he even have a sense of smell? How does he see? Did he _feel_? This simple gesture made Owen’s mind swirl with questions long enough that even his keen awareness was dulled. He didn’t realize Mispy stealing from his bowl from afar using her vines. He resumed eating without realizing that half his food had been transferred into her bowl.

ADAM said that he required no food. Despite this, when presented with some, he leaned his beak into the bowl and, as far as Owen could tell, _sucked_ the stew out of the bowl. But that gave Owen another thought, and he stared at ADAM for a bit longer. He didn’t have a neck. Porygon-Z had a head, and then a body, but no neck to attach them. How did he—?

“Optimal,” he stated.

Owen decided not to ask. Instead, he watched Amia hand Willow the smallest bowl they had, which ended up being three times her size. She countered by blasting it with a swirl of pink mist, shrinking it down until she could grasp it with her tiny claws. She then zapped the ground, forming a tiny, red mushroom that looked up curiously. She then grabbed this mushroom and tore it apart—it screamed a little, yet it laughed at the same time—and dropped its remains into the bowl. Owen noticed an ember returning to the Joltik’s tiny body. That mushroom was one of her spirits. And she just ate its temporary body. And the spirit got a kick out of it.

_At least I’m not the only crazy one,_ Owen thought worriedly. _Does being a Guardian make you go nuts?_

_I think it’s just the isolation,_ Star said.

_C-can you not do that?!_

_Whoops! My bad. Sorry, I’m just watching. You mind if I sit in your head for a while?_

_Ugh_. Owen resumed eating. _Why don’t you just come out?_

_I don’t wanna upset Zena. I’m gonna lay low for a while. Besides, I need to start looking for the next Guardians for you guys to get_.

“Owen, are you okay?” Alex asked, looking down.

“Huh? Oh—yeah! I’m just fine,” Owen said. “Sorry. I got kinda distracted.”

“This must be a lot for you to take in,” the Magmortar said, gently patting Owen on the back. “I’m really sorry for all this.”

“It’s okay,” Owen said. “I mean, it’s still crazy, and I didn’t expect my time as a Heart would be like _this_ , but, you know, it’s not… _bad_. I mean, look at everyone here, right?” He looked up at his father. “Lots of new friends, and Team Alloy is all here, and everything. So it’s not a total loss.” He looked at the flames on Alex’s shoulders. “I do kinda wish it was normal, but, I think that’s just a little panic, you know? Or… something.”

Alex smiled sadly. “I understand,” he said. “Believe me, I didn’t expect to live with Amia in quite this way, either. But I choose to stay here for her, and for you.”

Owen blushed slightly and resumed eating.

Amia eventually tried to break the ice by having everyone introduce themselves. Anam was happy to oblige, talking about the Association and how James was such a great help managing everything. He then pointed to Nevren, who looked almost startled at being acknowledged. Owen was surprised, too. He’d almost forgotten the Alakazam was there. Anam declared Nevren to be the most helpful at managing the other Hearts. “He’s my favorite tactician!” Anam said, which earned an unpleasant cough from James and Rhys. Anam tittered nervously.

“Hm, but now that I have the attention of everyone,” Nevren said, looking up, “I feel I should point something out. With the Hunters seemingly increasing their movements, and with so many Guardians here, it may be wise to stay together. That includes you, Anam. James was right. You may have been strong enough to survive out in the open without the Hunters approaching you directly, but now, that may no longer be the case. You should live here, in Hot Spot, with the others. I’m sure Amia can build you a hot spring just as they built a lake for Zena.”

“Mnn… but I get to be in Kilo during the day, right?” he clarified.

“Of course,” Nevren said. “That way, you can just be here at night, when you feel the need to rest. I know how much you enjoy naps, even though you don’t need them.”

Anam’s cheeks blushed purple.

“I didn’t expect this place to become so… full, so quickly,” Zena admitted, looking around with an air of nervousness. “I—I haven’t talked to so many new people in… in ages, really. Lifetimes. But—I’m quite happy here, now.” She glanced at Owen, but then flinched when their eyes met. She turned her attention back to the others.

_Zena…,_ Owen thought to himself, frowning. _I guess me being the Grass Guardian scares her a little. Her muscles are so tense every time she talks to me. Isn’t that how serpents react when they feel threatened?_ Owen hesitated, thinking for a bit longer. That wasn’t it. If anything, she was closer to him than she was to anyone else here!

“We’ll help you take it slow, dear,” Amia said to Zena. “Is there somebody in particular that you enjoy talking to?”

Zena gulped. She stared at the ground and nodded. Owen smiled slightly, feeling slightly reassured. That _had_ to have been him. Maybe she was just intimidated now that his training was showing results. He wasn’t scary! After all, she was still many times his size. Along with that, he wasn’t going to deny that—aside from when the air was squeezed out of him—it felt good to be wrapped up in her coils.

_That was a weird thought_ , Owen said. _Wonder where that came from._ He glanced nervously at Zena. He shouldn’t be getting feelings like that so suddenly. They only knew each other for a little while, relatively speaking. Zena just needed a friend. Lost in thought, Owen started fiddling with his claws.

“Well, talk to them, then!” Amia said. “It’s great to have a close friend.”

Zena nodded silently

. Owen found himself nodding, too. “Hey, you know, Zena,” Owen said, quickly trying to think of something that she might enjoy, “if you want, you can train with me!”

“Train?” Zena perked up. “Like, meditate together?”

“No, we can spar!” Owen said.

“Oh.” Zena shrank slightly. “You certainly like to fight, don’t you?”

“Just a little,” Owen said, shrinking in return. Wrong move. “I mean, I trained all the time to become a Heart, so I guess maybe that’s where I get it from? Fighting’s in my blood.”

Amia and Alex laughed nervously.

“Yeah,” Demitri nodded. “I think Rhys raised us that way, too, huh? As long as we meditated, we got to fight as much as we wanted! Just like eating vegetables. But for your head? Kinda cool, having him as a dad and a teacher at the same time.”

“I think we can say that,” Gahi said. “Yeah, I remember training with you guys fer as long as I can remember. You guys could never get me, though, ‘cause I was always flying way outta yer range! Hah!”

Demitri, Mispy, and Owen all laughed, but Owen caught on that the others were laughing a bit less, or differently. The jovial atmosphere bled away. Willow was laughing obliviously; Valle and ADAM didn’t seem like the sort to ever laugh; Rhys and Amia chuckled with strained force; Anam tittered nervously; Zena didn’t make a sound and looked at the Charmeleon with concern. Owen tilted his head back at Zena, wondering what was wrong.

This made Owen think back—did they say something wrong? _Something_ in that last sentence felt wrong. Did Gahi make an insensitive joke? Perhaps they just didn’t understand the joys of fighting, getting the blood pumping. They were a lot more peaceful, after all. The thrill of the chase, especially when Gahi flew around and they had to catch him on foot. Owen was never able to catch Gahi when he—

No. Wait.

Flying?

“Gahi, didn’t you _just_ evolve?” Owen asked.

“Eh?” Gahi said. “Well, yeah, but…” he trailed off. “Yeah… but… I always… flew off ter… avoid…”

Gahi fell into silence, his big eyes staring at nothing. Demitri and Mispy glanced at each other uneasily. Owen looked at Amia and Alex. They both looked away. He then looked at Anam. He jumped and looked at the ground. He looked at James, but he was already analyzing a mushroom on the ceiling.

A slow silence filled the air. Nobody knew what to say next—and all Owen wanted was for someone to say _something_. Anything! But, nobody did. Even the new Guardians, who knew nothing about their situation, sensed that something was deeply wrong.

“Flying…” Owen mumbled.


	16. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The teams head out to gather another three Guardians from their respective abodes, but things do not go as smoothly as last time...

Owen barely slept last night—nobody answered his questions when he asked. They always said, what are you talking about? Maybe it was a lapse in memory. Sometimes evolution can change the mind slightly. Gahi is just confused. He’ll sort it out. Don’t worry, Owen. You evolved, too. Maybe you need to settle a bit?

But Owen knew that wasn’t some trick of the mind. It felt too… _real_ to be a trick. But then—how could he know? If his mind _thought_ it was real, but it wasn’t… he _wouldn’t_ know. But then, why did he have that thought? Gahi _did_ fly before. He was _fast_ …

Days passed while Star went searching for more information about the Guardians. That left them with time to decompress. Willow made herself a little mushroom village in her abode, where she happily conversed with her screaming, playful spirits. ADAM spent his time obsessively polishing every corner of his abode until it was a smooth cube inside. Afterward, he dedicated his time to “defragmenting,” whatever that meant. Valle… did his thing in the town square.

The new normal was settling in. Every day, Anam would leave with Nevren to manage the Association. Rhys would leave with his students to take a mission or two after their usual meditation.

“I’m not crazy. Not crazy. Not…” Owen shook his head. “I _know_ it happened. I—I can’t just _make that up_ , can I?”

“I’m sure you can’t, Owen,” Zena said. “But you have to admit, it’s a little strange, don’t you think?”

She was coiled up in the corner of her room, staring at a set of little marbles on the ground. Rhys apparently had a bag of them in his room, and Owen knew the rules to a game they could play with them. He flicked one of two large marbles into the pile, knocking two out with precision. Zena, opposite to Owen, clumsily rolled her marble along her pink ribbon. It fell a few times, but a gentle, Mystic force kept it from hitting the ground.

“Mom’s not telling me a thing. I tried pressing Dad, but he got so flustered that he exploded and hid in Mom’s Fire Realm or whatever.” He snorted. He eyed the marble floating above Zena’s ribbon-eyebrow. “Is that thing you’re doing the same force you use to fly?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. It is.” Zena fired the marble into the circle, freeing four from the perimeter in one shot.

“Good one,” Owen said. The four marbles floated to Zena’s side. “But, yeah. That’s pretty cool. Maybe if I…” Owen focused on his marble. It wobbled in his claws, floating just a bit above his hand. It fell right after. “That’s weird.”

“It is,” Zena said. “I think it’s the same force that keeps some Pokémon afloat. Mm, Castform, Claydol, off the top of my head…”

“Levitation powers?” Owen said. “Yeah, I didn’t think about it that way.”

“Hmph. Star said it was _ignoring gravity_ , but that doesn’t explain it all. We also choose which direction we want to float.”

“Ignoring gravity,” Owen repeated. He stared at the remaining marbles in the circle. There were just ten. But he saw a good angle, and he flicked the orb in. With one flick, the marble bounced against six of the smaller ones, pushing them all out.

“How did you do that?” Zena said.

“Do what?” Owen asked, picking up the six that fell out of the ring. “It’s just a bunch of spheres. It’s easy to predict which way they’ll all go.”

Zena stared curiously. “Yes, but,” she said, “you predicted _all_ of that?”

“Well, the last one was a little luck,” Owen admitted. “Your turn.”

Zena counted her marbles, then Owen’s. “I can’t win,” she said.

“Huh?” Owen looked at his marbles, then at Zena’s. “Oh. You’re right. Even if you got ‘em all, I’d be two ahead…” He rubbed the back of his head, gripping his horn. “H-ha, sorry. Maybe I should’ve gone easier.”

Zena flushed. “You were going easy?”

“No!” Owen said quickly. “I was just—I mean—”

“Don’t go easy,” Zena growled.

“Okay.” Owen lowered his head. “Well—why don’t you pick the next game?”

“Hmm…” Zena said, looking at the marbles. Owen helped to gather them into the small sack Rhys kept them in. She then eyed Owen. “I think I’m going to meditate. Would you care to join me?”

“Oh, sure,” Owen said. “Um, can I meditate while reading something?”

Zena blinked. “I do not believe that is how meditation works.”

“Well, I haven’t been able to read for a while,” Owen said, bumping the claws from each hand together. “I feel like my mind’s getting rusty.”

“Well, what do you read?” Zena asked.

“Books,” Owen said. “I usually like nonfiction.”

“Books,” Zena repeated. “You’ve said that word before. But I’m not sure what they are.”

“Uhh—remember those weird, rectangle things in Anam’s office?”

“You mean the one that was encrusted with his… excretions?”

“Please don’t call it that.” Owen winced, nodding. “Those, yeah. Well, you can actually open them on one side. It’s actually filled with really, really thin sheets, called paper. And the paper has words on them. You can spend days reading one book, depending on how thick it is, and how small the letters are.”

“Goodness, that sounds like incredibly detailed craft. It must be expensive.”

“Not really,” Owen said. “We’ve got these things that can print them really easily. Nevren invented them with the help of some of the other Pokémon. You can make a bunch of copies of the same book really quickly—you could send it all across Kilo!”

“Kilo,” Zena repeated, nodding. “The world, right?”

“Yeah. Wait, back then, you didn’t even have a name for the world?”

“No, we did,” Zena said. “But I don’t think it was Kilo. In fact, I don’t think Kilo Mountain was called that, either.”

“Oh. What was it called before?”

Zena paused, looking down. “I can’t remember. Perhaps I haven’t used it in so long, I forgot. Q… Qu… Hm. I’m not sure.” She sighed. “It’s not important. Names change all the time.”

Owen nodded. “Well, how about we get something to read, huh?” he said.

Owen headed back to his home and slipped to his room, and then into a little alcove in the back where he kept his books. He had to buy special editions of them, printed on Rawst paper. “If we ever get you any books, Zena, I think we’ll need to find some books made of Passho paper.”

“Passho paper? Is that not a berry?”

“Yeah. It protects against water damage, so you can even read it underwater!”

“I’ve never heard of _making_ something waterproof before,” Zena said. “Let me guess. This is another one of those Dungeon items, or perhaps one of those odd blessings by Anam?”

“Yeah. Blessed berries and seeds and scarves really enhance their power. I heard that one blessed Aspear Berry can let you pull an all nighter easily!” Owen pulled out a book that was bigger than his head. “Here! Let’s read this one together.”

Zena blinked. “I’m reading with you?”

“I mean, this might be interesting to read, don’t you think?” He showed her the cover: _Scarves and Seeds: Basic and Obscure Dungeon Equipment, Third Edition_.

Zena looked tired just reading the title.

“Here, let’s go to the Scarves section, huh?” Owen said enthusiastically, walking to his bed. His flame was bright, lighting up Zena’s eyes. She followed. He opened the book to the middle and started pointing and reading out a few of the standard Scarves, all of their effects, where they were found, and even their rarity when found in the wild.

Somehow, Zena became interested, coiling near Owen to read with him. The pages turned slower and slower; by the time they were reading about Pecha Scarves, Owen had paused for so long that Zena spent a good amount of time simply re-reading. “Owen?” Zena asked, nudging his shoulder with one of her brows.

“Zena, am I crazy?”

Zena blinked. “I certainly don’t think so,” she said. “Owen, it was just a lapse in memory, was it not? Gahi just evolved. It’s simply not possible for him to have flown around before, and the evolution has everyone slightly confused.”

“It feels so real, though,” Owen said. “I… I don’t get it. I _know_ he—”

“Owen,” Zena said softly, “don’t get so worked up over it. Okay?”

The Charmeleon hesitated, but then turned the page. “Okay,” he said. “Thanks. I guess I’m just getting worked up over nothing. Lapse of memory from evolving. That makes sense. I guess the brain changes a little when you evolve, so maybe that’s why.”

Zena nodded. And so, they resumed their reading.

“So, I’m not crazy?”

“No, Owen. You’re just fine.”

 

“This one here is the Spire of Trials,” Star said. “Fighting Guardian Manny lives here—he’s pretty cool. I’d go there, definitely.” She pointed at the map they had brought in to Hot Spot’s main square. The Spire of Trials was that odd, narrow triangle on the map to the east, just below Nightshade Forest. “Hmm, I guess the Sunshine Highlands is also a good one, that’s the Flying Guardian, Cara.” She pointed to the far west, where white hills dominated the landscape. “Uhh… Oh! And why don’t we also try Forrest, the Ground Guardian in the Endless Expanse?” She headed southwest, to an odd, gray-colored portion of the map that looked like a place the map artist forgot to finish.

The group agreed and started shuffling around to divide up their numbers. With three new Guardians, they could have a full team for everyone and then some. After the fiasco that was Alex’s fighting abilities, he quietly retired to be replaced by someone else.

“I shall not go,” said Valle.

“Let me guess,” Star said, crossing her arms. “This place is your new mountain, and you’re gonna keep watch of any abnormal movements here instead? One with the stone?”

“Yes.”

Star sighed. “Okay, okay. So, who else is going, then? We’ve got Anam, James, Zena and… ADAM, yeah, that’s pretty balanced… that seems like a pretty solid group, right?”

Zena glanced at Owen again, but didn’t protest.

“And then there’s Rhys, and his three students… Okay, group two. Who’s left? Willow, Owen, and Amia—oh, hey, Alex, you can come with us again! …Owen?”

“H-huh?” Owen straightened his spine.

“Owen, are you… okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Owen replied weakly.

The group shuffled uncomfortably. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were a bit unfocused, too. It had been quite a few days since their odd lapse of memory, but it obviously lingered in all of Team Alloy’s heads. Everyone knew it, but most didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“Hey… don’t sweat it, alright?” Star said softly. “It’ll be okay. How about we just get to fighting, huh? Fighting is always fun! Right?”

This lifted their spirits slightly. “Y-yeah, I guess so,” Demitri smiled. “Yeah… um—which one do you think would be the best fight? Of those three?”

“Well, Forrest will probably give you a lot of obstacles to go through. And I’m pretty sure Manny will be the same. Cara’s more of a run-and-hide ‘mon, so… maybe Anam should do that one, since he’s the most outwardly friendly of us, y’know? And isn’t on fire,” she added, nodding at Amia.

“Oh, okay,” Anam said. “So, we’ll handle Cara. What about Forrest?”

“Ground, right?” Gahi said. “I can avoid all those attacks now that I’m flying. Levitate’s a pretty nifty move fer all those techniques. I say we do that one.”

“But Rhys is weak to Ground,” Demitri said. The Fraxure worriedly glanced at his teacher.

“I will survive,” the Lucario said.

“Guess that leaves us with Manny,” Amia sighed. “I’m not much of a fighter, but… I will try.”

“Excuse me?” Owen mumbled, recalling the time she melted the ground for Zena’s new lake.

“And I will, too!” Willow said, hopping onto Owen’s head. “You! Carry me when we go. Understood? You are my servant for the day.”

“E-excuse me?” Owen said again.

“Now, Willow, at least ask permission,” Amia said.

Willow growled. “You don’t mind if you are my riding-Pokémon, do you, Charmeleon?”

“I—I guess I will,” Owen said, looking away.

“Cool,” Star said. “Then let’s split up. If you guys run into any trouble, use those communicators like before. It might be useful!”

“Of course,” Amia said, looking around. “Owen! Let’s go. Willow, won’t you _lead_ Owen with us to Kilo Village?”

“Of course! Servant, you will move!”

“Okay…”

Amia giggled. “Oh, be a good sport, Owen. I’m sure Willow is just playing.”

“I sure hope so,” Owen said, looking up in an attempt to see the Joltik. He felt her balanced on the top of his horn.

“See you guys!” Demitri said, waving.

“Be careful!” Anam said. They all vanished, set to rescue the three Guardians.

 

The rocks of Sunshine Highlands glimmered like cut diamonds. There was no escape from the sunlight here, and the further along the highlands they went, the rockier it became. Everything was either white or prismatic; turning to the left risked seeing a rapid rainbow of colors, and turning to the right risked a whiteness that would rival the sun.

“I hope she’s okay,” Anam said, looking around through squinted eyes. “Cara, right? The Flying Guardian…”

“I guess that means she’s got quite the… hrm.” James said. “Well, perhaps her tendencies will be to flee rather than to battle.”

“Yeah,” Anam said. “But I’ll take the lead, if that’s how it’s gonna be.” He squinted, holding his slimy arm over his eyes. “It’s so bright!”

“Indeed,” James replied. “Part of the hazard here is how the rocks reflect the sunlight. We should have come here later in the day.”

Eventually, Anam had to cover his eyes completely. “I can’t see…” he mumbled.

“It’s… quite difficult, yes,” Zena admitted. She’d been slithering blind for quite a while, and had a splotch of slime on her neck and face from bumping into Anam so much. James kept his head down, using his natural hood to protect against most of the sunlight.

“We must advance,” ADAM said. “My light sensors have been shut down due to overload. However, my other senses indicate that there is a Mystic aura further ahead, and is currently hiding. Would you like to continue? Options: Yes, cancel.”

“Yes,” Anam said. “I guess… I guess we should keep going. How much longer?”

“We are approximately 98% to the hiding spot.”

“Oh, that’s close!” Anam said. “So, we should be finished soon?”

“We are approximately 98% to the hiding spot.”

“Um… yeah, so…”

“S-stop right there!” a shaky voice called out.

Anam stopped and tried to look ahead. She saw a flash of something flying toward them. Zena narrowly dodged the blast, but the strong gusts of wind left small cuts on her back. “Ah—ngh—that’s not very friendly,” she said.

Anam squinted and saw a bird flying high in the—no, that wasn’t a bird. It had wings, yes, but… it also had arms. And—something about the wings didn’t quite fit, either. What was wrong with…?

Anam saw flashes of brown when the light didn’t fight against him, and he realized that this fuzzy Pokémon was a winged Lopunny, its ears transformed into sky-blue, feathery wings. She flew through the air with an agility that Anam could only dream of.

“There! That’s definitely the Flying Guardian!” Anam pointed.

“Wh-what do you want with me?!” Cara yelled back. “I don’t want to fight! Please, leave me alone!”

“We aren’t here to fight!”

“How can I know that?! You already came here once before! You—your kind—!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Anam said.

“Cara! Whoever came here before, we aren’t them!” James said. “This is our first time here! Look!” He vanished into the ground in a black fog, and then reappeared. “Anam is the Ghost Guardian, and I am his spirit, yes? Did Star not tell you about us?”

Cara stopped her flying, but it was still too hard to see. “Wh-what do you mean?” she asked. She stopped flying away, and instead looked down at them. The way the sun was positioned, she was directly in front of it. “The Ghost Guardian, yes, I… I think Star mentioned you before. Yes. O-oh, I’m sorry. Hold on.”

The lights of the crystalline field dimmed enough for them to see. They still sparkled white, but it wasn’t blinding. Was she somehow controlling the intensity of the light?

Zena sighed. “Thank goodness,” she said.

“Yeah! I could barely open my eyes!” Anam said. “That’s not fair, you know, fighting your opponents when they can’t even see!”

“It was very difficult to see. My visual sensors were completely shut down,” ADAM said.

Cara beat her wings-ears a few more times. “I’m—I’m so sorry,” she said, slowly descending. “I didn’t mean—”

Anam suddenly went blind to a white flash of light. An instant later, the boom of thunder deafened him, leaving nothing but a loud ringing in his ears. Zena and the others shut their eyes again. ADAM blared an alert signal, but nobody heard it. The ringing faded. Anam tried to open his eyes, but everything hurt when he did, and he shut it again. Something heavy thumped dully a few feet ahead of him. He smelled something burning.

Anam felt James grab his arm and tug him back; he fell down and heard another thunderous explosion. If he wasn’t so slimy, his body might have caught on fire. Anam knew not to open his eyes for a while, but when he finally did, through his blurry vision, he saw something black a few paces ahead. There was something glowing in this blackness. A pale, whitish light. It reminded him of the clouds that the bird Pokémon flew above.

Heavy paws walked toward the black thing and the glowing orb. A tiny, gray creature floated toward it next, wrapping it in some sort of cloth. The light vanished. A forceful, invisible blast blew the blackness away like dust. And finally, Anam’s vision—as well as the others’—returned. Standing before them was Espurr Rim—and some… other creature.

Long, black fur along its head, chest, and rear; short, blue fur everywhere else. Bits of yellow in the ears and behind its forelegs, and a four-pointed star at the end of its black tail. But there was something different, too, from how Anam was familiar with the Luxray species. It was bulkier, with intense, sharp eyes and a slightly more elongated muzzle. Its fur stood even more on-end than usual, constantly sparkling with electricity, more like a Jolteon’s fur style. Every so often, they saw black flashes—some kind of dark light, if he had to describe it—accompany this electricity. Its tail was long, and whip-like, like a Raichu.

Anam couldn’t move. He just realized what happened. That Luxray was the one who attacked—and the Flying Guardian, Cara, was—

Rim vanished with the strange Luxray, taking the Flying Orb with her.

 

The Endless Expanse was named as such because, upon entering the field, it was hard to determine where the horizon was. It was a great flatland that had a perpetual, thin layer of water over a field of salt. The water perfectly reflected the sky, blending into the horizon an eternity ahead of them. Every step that Rhys, Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi took into this flatland sent small ripples ahead of them, disturbing the salt on the ground.

Gahi’s wings beat rapidly, making the most, but smallest, ripples. Demitri walked beside Mispy, and their steps, with Rhys’, made the most impact. There was no Dungeon here. Instead, the challenge of finding the Ground Guardian came from actually locating him in the completely uniform mirror. It was too large for Mispy to detect a Mystic aura for the whole area, and the same went for Rhys.

Gahi flew ahead multiple times to get a better visual of the fields for any abnormalities. Each time, he returned with no news, and they advanced forward to continue their scan. Around noon, Mispy started to complain about food, and Rhys sighed and dug through his bag for their rations. Rhys winced when he realized that he also had brought some of the food he planned to use for later.

“GROSS!” Demitri shouted. “What is that?!”

“It’s—it’s leftovers,” Rhys said, holding out what appeared to be a purple lump of… something. “I wasn’t going to throw it _away_. That would be wasteful.”

“I think it’s _moving_!” Demitri said.

“I’m not eating that,” Mispy said.

“I didn’t intend for it to be for you,” Rhys said, holding the grimy-looking food in his paws. “This will be my meal, then. It’s not as bad as you make it out to be. You may have these instead,” he said, offering Mispy two large apples. Demitri and Gahi took an apple each, but they stared at Rhys. “What?”

“You’re gonna eat that?” Demitri said.

“Of course,” Rhys said. He then opened his mouth and—to their horror—he downed the purple lump in one gulp. They watched the lump descend into his chest. He cleared his throat. “It’s not very difficult if you know the proper way to eat it.”

“I thought you didn’t need to eat,” Demitri said.

“If I’m performing some strenuous effort, I do,” Rhys said, looking ahead. “These past few days have been taxing, particularly after you decided to take on that high-ranking mission into the Southern Abyssal Forest.”

“Bah, scariest thing about that place is the rumors, nothing else,” Gahi said. “Okay, I’m gonna fly ahead and scan fer more weirdness, see if we can spot the Guardian, eh?” He flew ahead, having finished his apple.

Mispy finished her two by the time Demitri had finished half of his only apple. She wrapped a few vines around his body and pulled him onto her back, where she happily carried him across the salt flats.

Gahi flew back prematurely, and his zigzag in the air suggested he actually found something. “Let’s hurry,” Rhys said.

Gahi descended to their level. Once they all caught up, Rhys stopped, eyes wide.

There were claw marks in the ground that Gahi flew above. The ground was filled with huge fissures from some Pokémon’s attack. There was also a pit left behind in the ground where the Guardian of the Ground Orb likely once was. Some of the pits were still filling, slowly, with water, suggesting that the clash was recent. But for a battle with a Guardian, the struggle didn’t seem to be very intense, all things considered. Even their clash with Valle, while underwhelming on a relative scale, left quite a bit of damage.

“What is all this…?” Demitri said, looking at the ground. The Fraxure couldn’t help but admire his reflection, picking at a smudge on his left tusk.

“Good thing I c’n fly,” Gahi muttered, looking at his reflection.

“I don’t… sense anything,” Mispy said. The Bayleef had her eyes closed, worriedly scanning for any sort of Mystic aura. If the clash was here, surely the Ground Guardian would be here, too.

“But it _looks_ like something just got here. There,” Demitri said, pointing at a particularly huge gash in the ground where water was still pouring inside. It was deep, but the bottom was clearly visible and the water level was slowly rising.

They saw something lying in the flat ahead. “What’s that?” Mispy said.

“Let’s look,” Rhys said, running forward. Gahi was the only one able to keep up.

It seemed to be a small tree lying on the ground, cut near the base of the trunk. “What’s a tree doing _here_?” Gahi asked. “There ain’t a tree er a plant here fer… I mean, where’d it even come from?”

“This is a Torterra’s tree,” Rhys said. “It grows on their back, Gahi. But for it to be severed like this…” Rhys looked around. The water was covering most of it, but he saw heavy footsteps and multiple, converging imprints of other, attacking Pokémon. Rhys walked along and followed the path. He saw a particularly large pit in the ground—and at the bottom, he saw the victim. “Ngh,” Rhys said. “We’re too late.”

Gahi, Demitri, and Mispy followed Rhys. “What d’you mean?” Demitri asked. Rhys was staring down at the bottom of this pit that was slowly filling with water. He sighed, but sensed no aura there, let alone the Orb that Forrest would have kept.

Rhys fired a few weak Aura Spheres at the ground around the large pit; salt and sand burst and shifted into the flooded pit, burying the bottom completely. Rhys closed his eyes and lowered his head for a few seconds, waiting for the body to be buried completely.

Then, he said, “It seems that the Hunters have arrived here shortly before we did. Unfortunately, they extracted the Ground Orb,” he said.

“E-extracted?” Demitri said. “Y-you mean…” He stared at the pit. “Rhys, what… what was down there?”

Mispy gulped, watching the salt slowly sink into the water. “A Torterra…?” she asked.

Rhys nodded. “There’s nothing we can do here,” he said. “Let’s return home and report to the others.”

“Should we use our Communicator?” Demitri asked.

“No,” Rhys said. “We shouldn’t lower anybody’s morale. We’re already going as fast as we can; they won’t be able to go any faster than they already are.”

“Okay,” Demitri said. “If that’s the case, let’s just… I mean… yeah. Let’s go back.”

They didn’t want to admit it, but Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were all still itching for a battle. But in the solemn atmosphere of this lifeless salt flat, there was nothing to fight anyway.

Rhys dug through his bag, searching for their Badge. He dug a bit more. And then more.

“Rhys?” Gahi said.

Rhys looked up. “Where are our Badges?”

 

“Oooh… this place is a bit creepy,” Amia said, hugging herself. There was very little light in this mountain’s cave; only by her flames and Owen’s could they see the path. The spire itself wasn’t much to look at from outside. It merely appeared to be a giant spike in the ground, perfectly conical with an entrance on the southern side. Internally, it was a great, winding spiral of polished rock.

“I certainly didn’t expect the Spire of Trials to be some sort of ascending spiral inside,” Alex said. “Just where are we going?”

“From the outside it looked pretty big. Just a giant spike sticking out of the ground. So maybe we’re heading near the top?” Owen said.

“That’s likely it,” Alex agreed.

“Well, I don’t like it!” Willow said, stomping on Owen’s head with her tiny feet. “Owen! You’re going to turn around immediately!”

“I—I can’t just turn around! We’re already inside!”

“Then make it prettier! I need fresh air for my fur! And good smells, too! And light! Make it brighter!”

Owen growled. “Mom, help!”

“Willow, dear, why don’t I help make it brighter with my fire?” Amia offered. “I usually do blue light, but would you prefer something like green, or red?”

“Ooo! Make it green!” Willow said, hopping on Owen. “Green reminds me of the fields!”

“Green it is.” Amia smiled. She created a small fire bubble in front of them to light the way. This, it seemed, pleased Willow enough to keep her from complaining the rest of the way.

They walked quickly, but slow enough that they didn’t trip on anything. By the time they were a quarter of the way up the spire—going in a sort of inward spiral—they suddenly turned to the right and saw a large chamber. Echoes of explosions and shouts and roars radiated from the opposite side. Owen had to concentrate to get a better sense for what the sounds were—it was… something else. Who was that? Those roars didn’t sound normal. They were intense. Too intense for a normal Pokémon.

The chamber was at least a hundred of Owen’s Charmeleon paces across. The walls were looked like they had been buffered a thousand times over many centuries to get that perfect smoothness, and the same could be said for the floor. But there were imperfections. Cracks and faults, like battling had taken place there before. Still, the arena was empty. They could easily advance. The team of four stepped into the chamber and made it a quarter of the way across.

“Ha HAAA!” Someone suddenly shouted. After being so quiet to hear the others, the shout made Owen double over in panic, clutching his chest. Alex made the exact same gesture as Owen. Was it possible to die of shock? Perhaps not as a Mystic, or a spirit.

A spirit rose from the rocks in the center of the arena-like chamber. The Feraligatr pumped his fists in the air. His scaly arms were thicker than Owen’s body, and the same could be said for the bulk of just about every other part of him.

“I am the First Guardian Spirit, Feraligatr Azu!” he shouted. “I am one of three that you must defeat in order to see the Fighting Guardian, the greatest and strongest fighter of the Dungeon!”

His voice boomed through the air—Owen wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear him for much longer.

“You, a team of four!” said the Fighting Guardian Spirit. “What a perfect number! There are three of us in all, three Guardian Spirits! As the first… you are to give to me your weakest fighter, and we shall battle! If you lose… then that will be it! And you must turn away!”

“W-weakest?” Alex said.

“Wait,” Owen said, tilting his head, “doesn’t that mean _you’re_ the weakest of the three Fighting Spirits?”

“I—eh—” For a fraction of a second, his enthusiasm wavered. “I am the third in line of the strongest spirits within Guardian Manny! I am truly formidable…! And so—you shall NOT get to the higher levels without beating me!”

“B-but I’m not that good of a f-fighter, you see…” Alex admitted. “I—I wouldn’t want to…”

“We don’t want to fight Manny. We want to talk to him!” Amia said. “And… what’s that fighting I hear from the rooms above us? It’s coming from ahead.”

“Manny is dealing with a number of guests at the moment. To be another, you must get past me!”

“So, they all got past you, too?” Owen asked. “How many times did you already get beaten?”

“My little Charmeleon!” Azu said, thumping his tail on the ground with a laugh. A few rocks flew in the air, and a few cracks formed on the ground with each scaly thud. “You say such INCREDIBLE things!”

“I—I think what Owen means,” Amia said, “is… if we don’t want to fight Manny, that means we’ll only be doing three battles. So why don’t we start with the second weakest in our group?” she asked. “And then the second strongest, and then the strongest.”

“Ha! Then very well. Which of you is the second weakest?”

“I think that’s Willow,” Owen said without thinking.

Willow exploded with electricity atop his head, screeching and biting his horn. She tore off a few scales in the process.

“Y-yow! Ow! No, NO, bad Joltik—!” Owen said, trying to grab her, but she was too fast. She hopped off of him and landed on the ground, skittering around the rocks.

“You’re the weakest! You, you!” Willow said. “You have a clever mind but in raw power, you’re NOTHING to me!”

“But Willow, you’re smaller than my feet!” Owen said.

Willow send another volley of thunderbolts at Owen. The Charmeleon hopped in some sort of frantic dance, going from foot to foot on the cold, polished floor. Amia, sighing, rummaged through their bag for an Oran Berry. Willow prepared a great, shining ball of lunar energy above her head—but Owen quickly said, “O-okay, okay! I’ll—I’ll fight first! I’ll fight!”

Willow let the charging Moonblast dissipate. “That’s _better_ ,” the Fairy Guardian said.

Owen sighed. “Why aren’t you bigger, anyway?” she asked. “Can’t you evolve?”

“I look cuter as a Joltik,” Willow said, raising her tiny body upward. “And going forward and backward in evolution is easy for a Mystic. It’s not in one direction with a little divine power!”

“O-oh, okay,” Owen said.

“Stall no longer, challengers!” the Feraligatr said, thumping his tail one last time. “Approach me, witty Charmeleon! I shall show you the superior power of muscle!”

“Good luck, Owen.” Amia smiled apologetically, giving him an Oran Berry to fight in top form.

 Owen gulped, nodding. “O-okay,” he said. “I… I’ll do my best!”

With a puffed-out chest and a blazing, red tail, the Charmeleon was ready. But then, upon coming face-to-face with this Fighting-Type Feraligatr, feeling the sheer power that radiated from him—despite his bluster, and despite the silly disposition of this spirit… he knew. He knew when he was standing face-to-belly with the behemoth of a spirit. Seeing every detail of his disturbingly chiseled body, his toughened scales, and his impeccable jawline…

Owen didn’t stand a chance.


	17. Reset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys' team struggles to get home against a familiar foe. Owen's team struggles to pass the first test of the Spire of Trials. The quartet of late-evolvers get a makeover.

“Where in the world is…?” Rhys muttered, feeling for his Badge. But it was missing.

“Rhys? What’s taking so long?” Demitri asked. He stopped walking; his natural density made his feet sink slightly into the salt, which floated like clouds in the crystal-clear water. Distracted, he wiggled his claws, letting some of that salt dance around his toes.

“I am _certain_ I brought my Badge with us,” Rhys said, opening his bag further. “I always keep it right in the inner front pouch, the sole item. I felt for it on the way out! In fact, it flashed upon us leaving the Dungeon and entering the main salt flats,” he said.

Mispy tilted her head, staring at her reflection in the water. Not a bad look. It was a bit distorted from the ripples that Demitri made, and the others that Gahi’s wingbeats caused next to her. She brought a vine out and grabbed Gahi, holding him steady; that made it easier to see herself. She couldn’t wait for the time when her little buds would bloom into huge petals. Meganium were so pretty. She had seen one walking through town—she couldn’t believe what the amazing flower her species was able to grow!

Gahi protested being ‘monhandled, but eventually relented and looked at his reflection, too. He started by inspecting his wings. As a Flygon, they were going to get a lot bigger. Demitri was rubbing his tusks, wondering what it would be like once they became full-fledged axes like his evolution’s.

“Rhys, you sure you didn’t drop it in the flats?” Demitri finally said, looking up. “The warp pad isn’t too far off. Let’s just walk back. We’ll get home by sundown.”

“Nrgh…” Rhys said. “But I _know_ I had it… but yes. Let’s go. We need not waste extra time searching in this expanse. We can have Nevren track its location later.”

 “Right. Okay,” Demitri said. He looked around. “Wow… it’s really nice, though, isn’t it? It’s so… big!”

Indeed, now that they weren’t in such a rush, they had the opportunity to actually take in their scenery—now that they were turned away from the carnage, it was a reflective surface on all sides. Curiously, Demitri slammed his fist in the salt, creating a huge ripple in the water. It went out, and out, and out; it brushed against Rhys’ feet, making little disturbances in the waves, and then continued outward. Everyone, even Rhys, took a moment to admire the sight.

“It is,” Rhys said. “But… it is a bit unnerving. A salt flat of this size.”

“Aw, it’s pretty!” Demitri said. “I mean, you can see your reflection perfectly in thi—Rhys?”

The Lucario had abruptly turned around. His paws erupted with aura embers, and he was ready to lash out at any threat. “I believe I found my Badge.”

There was a strange creature flying a stone’s throw away from them. A Ninjask at the base, in addition to its pointy, serrated-looking legs, it had an additional set of limbs that resembled a Scyther’s scythes.

“I don’ think Ninjask’re supposed ter be here,” Gahi said. “Heh… weird. Wait. Ain’t their legs s’posed ter look a little different? And only have two of ‘em?”

“Weird, hm,” Rhys said. “That’s one way to express it, I suppose…!” Rhys briefly scanned the Pokémon’s aura. He couldn’t quite place it at first, but then— “Demitri. Mispy. Gahi. Stay behind me.”

“Wha—”

The Ninjask vanished from view—and reappeared right in front of Rhys an instant later. It moved incredibly quickly—even faster than a normal Ninjask, like its positive traits were pushed past their natural limits. It shoved its right, serrated limb right into the Lucario’s gut. Rhys grunted, eyes bulging. He jumped away and clutched at the wound, forced to a knee in the water. Crimson splotches faded into the salt. The trio stood in stunned silence—it all happened too fast.

Gahi reacted first. “Mispy!”

“Right,” Mispy said. She retreated to heal Rhys’ wounds. The strange Ninjask rushed forward. Gahi spotted this and countered with a deft shift in the air, ramming into the Ninjask to intercept the blow. Gahi heard a grinding noise that vibrated against his exoskeleton, followed by a shallow, sharp pain where he made contact.

“YOW!” Gahi shouted, flying away to get some distance.

“Gahi?!” Demitri said.

Some of Gahi’s tiny scales were torn away—the Ninjask had an extremely jagged exoskeleton of some kind.

“Rough Skin?” Demitri said.

Rhys grunted, his wound healed. “Be careful!” he wheezed. “That isn’t a normal Pokémon! It’s—a mutant, but…!”

The Ninjask rammed at Demitri, attempting the same attack that it had done to Rhys—but his scales were too tough, and it only resulted in a minor wound. He countered with a powerful chop to the creature’s side, using both his arms and his hefty tusks to deliver the blows. Demitri felt his scales get caught on the Ninjask’s outer shell. He hissed and clutched his hand. It tingled—in fact, it felt like it was starting to spread.

Demitri recognized this feeling. “I—I think it poisoned me!” he shouted, stumbling back.

“Poison Point?” Mispy squeaked.

“Nah, that’s definitely Rough Skin!” Gahi shouted back. He then retched into the water, finally feeling the effects of the poison.

Mispy ran toward Demitri, readying another Heal Pulse to help him—if only to heal the damage, if she couldn’t get to the poison. But when she tried… something blocked it. The pulse was emitted, but then it faded away, like a dying candle to the wind.

Rhys closed his eyes and immediately spotted the source. “Rim…!”

The Espurr was glowing with a dark light. Its aura radiated from her center, filling the atmosphere with a weak, ominous tinge—Heal Block. Mispy’s powers were useless.

The Ninjask zipped toward Demitri again, slashing at his back. The arms tore through his scales with ease, ripping a few right out. He shouted in pain and spun around, but was too slow. It was already chasing down Gahi, who flew higher in the air. The Ninjask was faster and slashed at his tail.

“Nrgh—!” Gahi spun back and puffed out a plume of foul, blue breath at him. It grazed the Ninjask enough for it to back off and fly down again, freeing Gahi from the pursuit.

“Rrrrrrrrgh!” Gahi tried to ram into Rim, but he hit her barrier instead. The pulsing sphere around the Espurr rejected his advance. The impact alone made a loud, ethereal _clang_ in the air, bending one of his wings oddly. The Vibrava was then blasted back at the same speed he’d approached with. He slid across the ground and tumbled into a pile of wet salt.

His wings twitched; the Vibrava tried to free himself from the pile. In the meantime, Mispy charged her Solar Beam; Demitri ran toward Rim next, slamming his fist against her Barrier at a specialized angle—an angle specifically meant for destroying barriers. “Bet you can’t handle—Brick Break!” Demitri announced, slamming his claws down hard. The light flashed—flickered—faded… and then returned. “N-no fair!”

Rim’s eyes glowed a bright purple. Demitri was blasted away by a force that seemed to bend the light itself. The Fraxure slammed Gahi back into the pile he’d just escaped from.

“N-now!” Mispy shouted, firing a concentrated blast of solar energy from around her neck, concentrated forward. Rim turned her head, staring at the light. The beam bent around her barrier—flashing, flickering—but it didn’t fade. When the Solar Beam finally subsided, it left behind a V-shaped carving in the salt behind Rim. Water slowly filled the gashes, but the Espurr herself was completely unharmed. Not even wet. Her wide, yet neutral eyes stared emptily forward, through Mispy.

“B-but…!” Mispy said. That attack _always_ worked!

“Leave us, Rim!” Rhys said, though he was currently dueling with the Ninjask, careful to only use indirect attacks against it. In this case, his only effective move was a ball of white, hard light—a Flash Cannon. “You already have the Orb!”

Rim stared at Rhys and blinked once, slowly. Then, she turned her head toward Mispy. The Bayleef flinched. That one moment of hesitation earned Mispy a Psychic blast; she screamed and skidded across the salt, bouncing over the salt flat like a rock over a river. She hit Demitri and Gahi, who had both clambered out of the pile seconds before. They all grunted, buried once again. The Espurr, floating over the water, went higher, staring at the pile. Her eyes glowed. Psychic energy twisted the salt around them; all three roared in pain. It was like they were being crushed in the palms of a giant.

“Rim!” Rhys shouted.

The Ninjask doubled back and flew toward Rim, flying behind her obediently.

Rhys fired a Flash Cannon directly at her; she turned her head and deflected it with a glance. That was when Rhys realized that, in his current state, he wouldn’t be able to overpower her. He considered going all-out, unleashing his aura in full. But that would only give him a few moments, at the very most, to defeat Rim. It wouldn’t work, and he’d only strain his aura to the point of passing out. And then what?

The Lucario grunted. “Y-you’re becoming quite powerful,” he muttered. “How many Orbs have you claimed, Rim…? How many have you relinquished to Eon?” Rhys hoped that his words would distract her long enough for the trio to recover.

It didn’t. Rim stared at the pile of salt and blasted again with Psychic. They screamed. Mispy panted. Demitri tried to help them out. Another Psychic—salt flew in the air, mixing with water. Rhys brought up an aura barrier to block some of the water from splashing against him. “Rim—STOP!” he roared, using a vertical Extremespeed to leap high in the air. Rim blocked him with her barrier; he landed in the salt, feet stuck too deep. “Ngh—” he fired at Rim from below with everything he had. Aura Sphere—Flash Cannon—his two ranged attacks, but neither had any effect. The barrier was just too much.

“Rim—you can’t keep doing this! If you do, they’ll—!”

Rim blasted them one last time—and then… they stopped screaming. Instead, they all roared—in unison, in anger, in frustration, in madness. The salt blasted away with a great wind; the water rippled, splashed, and rose in tiny droplets. Rhys freed himself from the salt—but then, abruptly, felt a sharp pain in his back. “Ng—!” He lost all feeling in his legs. He fell forward, wheezing. The water around him reddened rapidly.

The Ninjask flew toward the trio next, but was blown away by the force. Rhys stared in pain. A blinding, white light emanated from all three of them.

The light of evolution—and then… a flash of blackness.

 

Owen left an Owen-shaped hole in the wall behind him. He coughed and collapsed on the ground, barely able to stand. This, for quite a while, was his fight with Azu. It was a bit too dark to see the ground. Thankfully, the Feraligatr spirit had a slight glow to him that added to Owen’s fading fire. If this was how strong a summoned spirit was, just how strong was Manny? He was just glad that he didn’t have his Bag with him. While he couldn’t use Nevren’s Eviolite to his advantage, it also didn’t get in the way while he fought. Instead, he had set it aside near Amia and the others, so the only thing that would break in the fight would be his bones.

“HAHAH!” Azu boasted. “And before you blame the Type Advantage, little Fire, I’m pure Fighting in this spiritual form! These muscles don’t lie!” He flexed, striking a pose that emphasized his right side.

“Ngh… that… that hurt!” Owen said, struggling to remain stable. Azu’s posing was both annoying and distracting. He leaned back and held the rocky wall behind him, glancing at the imprint he left on the wall. The rocks must have been a bit soft. Surely, he would’ve died from something like that normally… or he wasn’t giving his durability enough credit.

“No pain, no gain!” the Feraligatr said. “Such a wonderful motto! I have no idea where Guardian Manny learned it, let alone Master Yen, but he is surely one of the greatest fighters alive!” He pointed a claw at Owen. “You can’t hope to face him with your puny strength! I can feel it!”

“Gooo Owen!” Willow said, crackling near Alex’s feet. It made the Magmortar flinch. He quietly inched away while the Joltik leaped high in the air, flashing yellow and white light.

 “Y-you can do it, Owen!” Amia shouted from the entrance to the arena. “But—don’t push yourself!”

 “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” Owen said. He saw a fist flying toward him—he ducked and rolled. He felt the shockwave of the fist to the wall; a hole was left where Owen’s head’s imprint was. “Are you crazy?! That would’ve hit me right in the—I could die!”

“What’s death to someone who died?” the Feraligatr laughed. “That’s meaningless to me! Perhaps if I kill you, I’ll see you again in the Fighting Orb!”

“S-sorry, but I have some things I gotta do here, first!” Owen said.

“Hah, and don’t we all?” He swept his tail, knocking Owen off of his feet. This was immediately followed by an uppercut. The combination of downward gravity and an upward fist knocked all of the wind from the Charmeleon; he coughed and flew through the air. His back hit the ceiling—and then he crashed down onto the ground. Owen could barely breathe, let alone stand.

“Hm, so that is the extent of what you’re capable of,” the Feraligatr said, stomping toward him. With a light push with his foot, he rolled Owen onto his back. The Charmeleon’s tail was barely alight.

“O-Owen!” Amia said.

“Don’t you dare hurt him more!” Willow said, crackling enough to illuminate the whole cave.

“I won’t,” Azu replied, crossing his muscular arms. “…He’s done, anyway.” He faced Amia and the others. He boomed triumphantly, “As per the rules, you can’t advance. Come back when you’re stronger!”

“B-but we have an important mission to take care of!” Amia said. She held her arms out, pleading. “We—we need Manny to come with us, so he can be safer!”

“Why would he be safer with people who can’t even defeat me?” he asked. “Your first fighter surrendered before he even entered the ring. And your next fighter…” He looked back at Owen, who was back on his belly, holding himself up a few inches from the ground. “Well, he’s out of his league, too. I wouldn’t exactly call that reliable. You two don’t have very strong fighting auras, either. You’re nothing to Manny.” There was a wave of seriousness over the Feraligatr’s voice. But it washed away just as quickly. Seconds later, he had a toothy grin. “So begone, and challenge me again when you become stronger! Ha!”

The Charmeleon stirred. “N-no…” he said. “I’m… I’m not done!” He hacked and wheezed, and then stumbled to his feet. His legs shook like autumn leaves.

“Oh?” he asked. “Hah. Your body is not ready, but your aura is strong! …But you cannot win, Grass Guardian. Leave and return later.”

“I won’t!” He rushed forward and tripped on his broken leg, yelping.

“Hmph,” Azu said. “You fight like a spirit,” he said, picking him up by the horn. Owen’s body dangled limply.

“Ngh… and what’s that supposed to mean?” Owen said. His arms twitched—he was trying to punch, but his body simply wouldn’t listen.

“Spirits don’t have bodies to worry about. They fight with disregard for their wellbeing.” He let go, dropping Owen on the ground, where he managed to stay standing.

“Guess I like a good fight,” Owen growled, wobbling. He spat an Ember right at the Feraligatr; he blocked it effortlessly with a flick of the wrist. He countered with a powerful blast of his focused, fighting spirit, aimed squarely at Owen’s chest. The losing challenger roared and skidded back, holding the blast in place. But it wasn’t stable—the launched Focus Blast exploded in Owen’s hands, propelling him into the wall again. Like a ragdoll, Owen hit the ground, eyes blazing.

Amia cried, “Owen! Stop! _Please_!”

“I can do this!” Owen roared back. He was missing a tooth. He wobbled back to his feet. Adrenaline pumped through him. He didn’t feel any of the pain anymore. He knew this feeling. So familiar—so _exhilarating_. He was fighting to the death. He knew this. He’d die if he lost. And he’d _never_ flee. This target would fall—or he would. Why did these thoughts fill him so naturally? It was logical to surrender. Tactically, he was being allowed to leave to return later, to win. But he couldn’t flee. He just _couldn’t_. He had to _fight_. He had to _win_. He had to _kill_.

Owen’s vision was reddening. He growled. Molten embers dripped from his mouth, melting the rocks below.

“Oh, no…!” Amia said.

“You still wanna fight?!” Azu said.

Owen ran toward him and launched a concentrated jet of fire, turning the whole arena red for half a second. The flames enveloped the Feraligatr, but he punched through it and hit Owen in the stomach. Owen growled and opened his mouth, chomping down on the arm, breaking through the scales.

“Grah—persistent Pokémon, I’ll give you—THAT!” With his other arm, he punched Owen away. Yet he didn’t let go. His jaw clenched even harder, and he took the arm with him. It dissolved into a flurry of blue aura flames; Feraligatr’s shoulder looked like it was on fire from the missing limb.

He stared at his erupting shoulder. “Heh… well. Guess y’got me there,” Azu said, shrugging.

Owen growled and shambled toward him again. His arms dangled wildly below, but his legs, despite being broken, carried Owen step after clumsy step.

“Not gonna fool me again!” he said, spinning around. His tail slashed at Owen, knocking him over. Owen got up and rushed again. The tail swatted him away. Owen got up and rushed again. And again. And again—he just kept coming. He didn’t stop—his stamina was endless. He’d fight himself to the ground. There was no pain. No fatigue. He’d just keep going. And going. He didn’t even hear Amia crying for him to stop anymore. His vision was completely red. Running on instinct. There was something ahead of him, Azu, and that was all he knew. The target. It had to fall.

A final punch from the Feraligatr did him in; it was square on the chest, and knocked him down completely. Owen’s body, regardless of what he couldn’t feel, was broken.

“Ngh,” Feraligatr said. “I didn’t _mean_ to be so harsh… but he wouldn’t stop!” he tried to explain to Amia, who was watching Owen intently. “What?” he asked. “Hope you brought Reviver Seeds! He’ll need ‘em!”

Azu scratched the back of his head, laughing, trying to lighten the mood. His laughing was deterred somewhat by the look in Amia’s eyes. There were tears, and behind those tears, wide eyes of fear. But it wasn’t toward Azu.

The cave glowed again. This time, the glow was white. Azu turned around. “Eh?”

The cave was filled with the light of evolution. Owen’s body grew. Wings sprouted—his tail lengthened, his flame an inferno. A horrible roar filled the cave walls.

A black flash corrupted the light.

 

A vague memory crossed Owen’s mind.

“Owowow… Owen! What’s wrong with you!”

“S-sorry!” Owen rushed toward Demitri, helping him up.

“Hahahahah!” Gahi teased. “Ol’ Scalebag really had it coming to him, eh, Owen?”

“Gahi…” Mispy growled.

“Aw, c’mon, Mispy,” Gahi said. “Just playing.”

“Are you okay?” Owen asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Demitri said, nodding. “I hope I didn’t break one of my tusks…”

“I’ve got it…” Mispy said, washing him in healing light.

“Aw, thanks, Mispy.” Demitri said, perking up. “Hey! Why don’t we fight again?”

Someone chuckled from the sidelines. “Still looking to fight, are we?” Rhys asked. “Your endless energy is encouraging. If only I could say the same for myself.”

“Ohoho…” A Torkoal beside Rhys chuckled. “At least you can fight, Rhys. I just don’t see myself doing those things.”

“Aw, Elder, I bet you’d be super strong if you fought!” Owen laughed.

Elder chuckled. “Ah, but I don’t know any offensive techniques, Owen! Such a shame, really.” Elder didn’t appear very regretful of this.

The quartet laughed and Rhys chuckled.

“Say, how about this,” Gahi said. “Demitri and Mispy can fight as one team, and you and me can fight fer the other,” he said.

“It’ll be air against ground?” Owen asked.

“Yeah!” Gahi said, outstretching his wings.

Owen smirked and mimicked Gahi. They both took to the skies.

The memory was wiped away.

 

The dim glow of nighttime mushrooms colored the rocky walls of the cave in a soft cyan. Mixing with this light were flickering embers of orange and yellow. Owen was lying in the middle of these flames, enjoying the warmth; they licked at his scales and washed over his back. The flame at the end of his tail got hotter, brimming with energy. He rolled over to sear his belly next.

“No resting on the fire, Owen.”

“Wh—huh? I wasn’t!” He rolled away and quickly hid beneath his bed of leaves. Some of them turned black from the fire, but they didn’t burn. He rubbed the back of his head, feeling pain all over. He grumbled and rubbed the orange scales on his arms.

A Lucario peered into the room. Rhys sighed. “You’re very lucky we were able to fashion your bed with Rawst leaves, or you’d burn through them every night,” Rhys said. He chuckled, but then walked over, patting him on the head. “How are you feeling, Owen? Today was a rough day, wasn’t it?”

“Today…?” Owen asked.

Memories flashed before him. The Feraligatr. The fighting. That feeling… the sense of dying, yet the thrill of fighting. Like he was filling a void in his heart—fulfilling some grand purpose. But what happened after?

“W-wait!” Owen sprang to his feet. “I—I was fighting!”

“You were,” Rhys said. “And you lost.”

Owen’s tail drooped to the ground. “Th-that can’t be…. I… I had him on the ropes! I even tore his little spirit-arm off! I remember!”

“It wasn’t enough,” Rhys shook his head. “Don’t worry, Owen. Your mother told me everything—you fought very well.”

“Mom…” Owen said. He sighed, crossing his arms. “You mean… I wasn’t good enough to win, even though I tried my hardest?”

Rhys hesitated.

Owen sighed and stood up. Every part of his body felt bruised, but he paced anyway to clear his head. His bed felt a lot larger today, and he felt smaller than ever. He remembered staring up at the Feraligatr—he was barely up to his thighs, wasn’t he? “I just… I bet I could’ve done it if… if I just… maybe if I moved to the left instead of the right, or…!” He stopped. His fists shook with frustration, and he stomped on the ground. “I just wish I could finally evolve or something! I’ve been a Charmander _forever_!”

Rhys gulped, but then said, “W-well, regardless, Owen… we need to do some planning. You aren’t the only one to fail their mission today,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Owen asked.

“We all did,” someone said from the room’s entrance.

“Gahi!”

The Trapinch wobbled his way inside, clicking irritably. A Chikorita and Axew followed behind, clearly just as crestfallen, even though Gahi didn’t want to show it.

Demitri spoke next. “Association Head Anam’s team… their Guardian was killed right in front of them—and Rim got the Orb, too! And our team… Rim was there! She already beat that Guardian, and then she beat us up! Really badly! But then I guess after we passed out, Rhys fought her off.”

“Hmph,” Mispy said. “If we were… just… evolved…”

The quartet sighed in unison.

“We’re just late-evolvers,” Owen said. “We’ll—we’ll evolve eventually! I’m sure of it!”

Rhys turned around. “We’re going to be discussing what happened now. Future plans. Star will be there, too. Would you like to come with us?”

“Y-yeah,” Owen said. “W-wait! Zena! Is Zena okay?”

“Zena is just fine. Everybody is okay, aside from the Guardians we tried to rescue,” Rhys said. “Come.”

The Lucario led them to Hot Spot Square. The Charmander, Chikorita, Axew, and Trapinch followed him out.


	18. Known Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their loss against Rim and the strange Pokemon, the Mystics come together to regroup and plan their new strategy. Owen, now back to being a Charmander, questions his own circumstances, suspecting that everybody knows the truth but him.

“Looks like that’s everyone,” Star said, flicking her tail.

They were standing in the middle of Hot Spot Square. A few of Amia’s spirits swept away little pebbles that littered the ground—much to Valle’s irritation—while Amia herself channeled a bit of extra Mystic energy into the mushrooms to brighten the brown rocks. The cyan glow they gave off mixed with the jagged edges of the houses, casting shadows on the wall. Owen sighed at the sight; what nostalgia to have a get-together like this. It’s too bad it had to be over such depressing talk.

“What’s the damage?” Gahi asked, clicking his jaws uncertainly.

Star sighed, sitting down in mid-air. Her tail curled around her legs. “I want you guys to be very, very calm, okay?” she said. “No sudden movements. Be nice and delicate. Talk quietly. Got it?”

“Eh?” Gahi said.

“Just… just promise me, okay?”

Gahi hesitated, churring. He glanced at a few of the others—Willow, in particular, who irritably crackled.

“Well, why should I be quiet?!” she said.

“Willow,” Star said slowly. “Please.”

“W-well, I… I’ll…!” Willow looked at the others, and then at Star again. “Okay…” The crackling slowed down, and the Joltik stood still.

Star nodded. She closed her eyes. “Anam, if you can…?”

“Oh, right,” Anam said. He held his arms forward and focused; a little aura flare formed between his hands, and he sent out another spirit. It formed into a winged Lopunny—a solid spirit. She wasn’t very strong, unlike Star, who was still very much see-through. Much easier to summon. But James and the others in Anam’s squad recognized her immediately.

“C-Cara?” Zena asked.

“Shh,” Star said softly.

Zena flinched, but nodded. Cara was a trembling wreck—shaking, looking to her left and right, and all around her. “Wh-where am I? Wh-what is this?”

“Hey… Cara,” Star said softly. The Mew gently floated closer, but she stopped when Cara shrank away. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s just me. Star. You know me, right? When you were afraid and confused, I popped right in and brought you someplace safe. Remember that?”

“I was… I was floating. My body, I… I couldn’t feel my body…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Star said.

“There were lights everywhere, like I was… I was flowing, I—I didn’t know where to go, what to—”

“Shh, shhshh, shh…” Star advanced, placing a paw in Cara’s. “You’re in a place called Hot Spot Cave. It’s underground, and away from any dangerous Pokémon. You can let your guard down.”

“I—I can? Truly?” Cara looked like she was ready to collapse in front of everyone.

“Look around,” Star said, waving her arm to the small crowd. “Not a harmful soul here, don’t you think?”

Cara scanned the cave square. The four unevolved Pokémon. The lovely Goodra that summoned her. Star, the constant presence that she could speak with, should she ever feel afraid. The others seemed fine, too. “Oh, what an adorable Joltik,” Cara said quietly.

“Adorable?” Willow asked.

“Yes, you’re quite lovely,” Cara nodded.

Willow glowed a bit. “W-well, I guess I might be a _little_ cute…!”

Cara scanned again. “That one, the statue. Quite unnerving, that. Who is…?”

“I am Valle. I am one with the mountain.”

“He’s a little weird in the head, but he means well, I think,” Star said. “Actually—hey, Valle, is there anything dangerous in the caves right now? Like, uh, Pokémon that would be trying to hunt us down?”

“No.”

“There!” Star said. “See? Valle’s our little security system. He’s like an army of guards! That’s pretty cool, right?”

“Y-yes. That is quite… cool, yes.” She flapped her ear-wings a bit. “A tad warm here.”

“Yeah, Fire Guardian’s home, so, y’know,” Star said. “But it’s a bit cooler in some of the houses—anyway, Cara… you know you died, right?”

“Y-yes… I believe that is it. I was summoned. A spirit. Oh… A spirit…” she sighed, shaking and shivering. But she seemed calm. Perhaps she was in shock.

Owen watched sympathetically. “Hey, I’m sorry that happened,” he said. “Um, so… that means Rim got to her before we could, huh? How come she still looks like she has the Orb?”

Star nodded. “It’s the form she’s most familiar with,” she said. “Kinda like Valle, she prefers a body different from the one she was born with. And for what happened… that’s what I wanted to outline to you guys. And I want Cara to tell me everything she remembers about this, first. Cara? What do you remember?”

Cara nodded. “I—I’ve always been a small bit jumpy. Perhaps it is in my nature. But I’m afraid I can’t give much more information than what I’ve told Star, even now. I had been fleeing from strange, mutant Pokémon like them for quite some time. I think the brightness of my abode made it hard for them to strike me, but once I lowered my guard…”

Anam gasped. “Th-then…! Then when we made Cara feel safe, they just…!”

“How did we not sense them?” Zena asked. “We should have sensed their auras!”

“Rim may have been hiding from afar, waiting for the light to lower to find her,” Rhys said.

Star nodded. “There wasn’t much we could’ve done with what we knew. I’m sorry that it happened, Cara.” She then addressed the others. “Right now, we’ve got seven Orbs on our side. You, your mom, Zena, Willow, Anam, Valle, and ADAM. And Rim stole the Psychic Orb a while ago. Well, she just got two more. Cara, the Flying Guardian, and Forrest, the Ground Guardian. I wanted Forrest to come along, too, but he said that he’s fine. I think he was ready to give up anyway.”

“Wait,” Owen said. “So… not Manny? What happened to him?”

“Guess Rim wasn’t strong enough to handle him yet,” Star said. “Actually, Rim also attacked other areas today, too, but I dunno if Guardians are there or not. It might’ve been a guess, because I just don’t know where all the Guardians are anymore. They either don’t talk to me anymore, or won’t tell me where they are.”

“Won’t tell you?”

“They kinda… don’t trust me,” Star said, biting her lower lip. “Because, you know…”

“Because you recruited the Hunters,” Zena said. She had cooled down from that revelation, but perhaps a bit too much—the Milotic’s voice was icy.

Owen looked uneasily at Zena. Everything felt hazy when he thought about her or any of the others. He must have been hurt pretty badly in that fight against Azu, because he could only vaguely remember details about all of them. They were in a strange state in his mind, both familiar and unfamiliar. He knew them, but for how long? Owen felt another crisis of panic wash over him. _Not crazy. Not crazy. Not crazy. Just play along._

“Yeah… But, anyway,” Star said, “Cara and Forrest were the last two _weak_ Guardians, I think. At least, of the ones I know. From here on out, the Guardians we’re gonna face are gonna be strong, and they might even be paranoid and hostile if we approach.” Star sighed. “Some of them… don’t trust my word anymore, like I said.” She glanced at Zena. “So, I think… we might need to do this a little forcefully and try to calm them down, or convince them some other way. But either way—we’ll have to… you know.”

“Beat them up to befriend them?” Demitri asked.

“Now yer talking.” Gahi clicked happily.

Cara stiffened with fright. This was enough to quiet Gahi down; he stepped away, mumbling to himself, and hid behind Zena to avoid frightening Cara. “I would like to go, now,” she said quietly to Star.

“Okay. Thanks anyway, Cara. Just rest for now.”

The Lopunny vanished, and Demitri and Gahi both shrank guiltily.

“You don’t have to fight them… not always,” Star said to them. “But, hey, they might put up a fight. So just keep that sorta thing in mind, y’know?” she said.

“Aw, heh, sounds fine to me,” Demitri tittered.

“So, wait, are we just going to send a single team, then?” Owen asked.

“A team of our absolute strongest, maybe,” Star said. “But nothing more than that. If we had two squads head in, that might help us with extra power if we have some big problem… like a run-in with Rim, for example, or…”

“Or those weird Pokémon that follow her,” Anam said.

“But having two teams will make it difficult to coordinate,” Zena pointed out. “We aren’t very good at using our communicators in the heat of battle, after all. Nevren wanted them to be useful, I’m sure… but we found little use for it in our last battles.”

“Wait, hold on,” Owen said. “Weird Pokémon? You mean mutants, or something else? What’d you guys run into?” If they were more of those odd Pokémon, what did they have to do with the Guardians? And, more importantly, why did the others react strangely when he mentioned them?

The group shifted uncomfortably again. Owen sensed it. “Guys, what’s all this about…? And—and what happened when I passed out, anyway?! I know I lost, but…”

“We ran into some strange Pokémon while on this outing,” Star said. “Basically, Rim was being followed by one or more… mutated Pokémon. Like, something was just _different_ about them in some way—a Ninjask with Scyther arms, or a Luxray crazy bulked out, with a Raichu’s tail. It was insane! And—they all had this different aura about them, too, is that right?”

“The Luxray’s aura felt weird,” Anam nodded.

“Weird?” Mispy asked, wiggling the leaf on her head. “Our auras are weird.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s probably because we’re late evolvers,” Demitri said. “Right?”

“Y-yes, that’s likely it,” Rhys said.

“See? Even Rhys says so,” Demitri said.

Owen spotted Willow nearby, shivering. “Hey, Willow, are you okay?” he asked the Joltik. “You’re, uh, shaking.”

“H-huh?” Willow squeaked. “Y-yes! I’m fine. I’m just… cold in the mornings!”

“Oh,” Owen said, stepping closer. “Well, I’m a Fire-Type. Want to rest on my head like before?” he asked, giggling. “I mean, you liked it bef—”

Willow skittered away, hiding behind Anam. Little particles of pink fairy dust scattered around her feet with every step, like she was ready to shrink him down if he got any closer.

Owen blinked. “U-uh… okay…” That was _not_ the reaction he was expecting.

A memory flashed in Owen’s eyes. He was rushing toward Azu, the Feraligatr from before. Willow was screaming, and Amia was calling Owen’s name. Azu’s eyes, for just a second, looked… afraid.

Owen shook his head, holding his breath.

James was murmuring to the Joltik, almost like a lecture. Whatever he was saying, Willow wasn’t having any of it, and she hid right behind Anam’s gooey ankles.

“…Yeah… weird auras,” Star said. “To be honest, we’ve seen that stuff before, and I’ve seen similar auras running through the aura sea before.” She avoided looking at anybody else. “Basically, these Pokémon, the mutants… I’ve only seen them recently out and about like that, but the reason those auras look strange? Ugh, how do I explain this? Oh, okay. So… You know how, like, berries kinda look like each other if they come from the same plant, or something? Like, Oran berries come from Oran Berry Plants… I mean, unless it’s a huge berry tree, then it’s all sorts, but… Ugh, that example sucks…”

“…Genetics, you mean?” Rhys asked. He quickly amended, “Nevren spoke of that before.”

“Y-yeah! N-Nevren would know how to describe this, uh, but…” Star spun around. “Okay. Zena… you used to be mortal, right?”

“Yes,” Zena said.

“So, you had parents.”

Zena nodded. “They accompany me within my Water Orb realm, in fact.”

“Yeah. So, _your_ aura, see, it kinda has traces of both their auras, since you came from them. That make sense?”

“Yes… ancestry, of a sort?”

“Yeah,” Star said. “Really, really good aura readers can trace an ancestry back a few generations, kinda like, matching and linking auras to where they came from, and where _those_ auras came from, and so on, okay? Well… the Pokémon we encountered back there? That Luxray and that Ninjask? They… didn’t have that.”

“…They didn’t have… auras?” Owen asked.

“N-no, no, they had auras,” Star said. “They didn’t have _ancestry_. No aura traces of parents, or grandparents, or any of that. No history.”

“W-wait, what does that mean?” Amia said.

“Rhys has a similar aura,” Star said. “His aura is a little weird because he doesn’t have grandparents—All he has is a single parent, me. Since I created their auras. Same for Nev, and all the Hunters. All that weirdness you sense from them? Sure, some of it is a bit of divine power, but it’s also their weird aura trace.”

“You… created their auras?” Owen said.

Rhys looked off.

“Yeah,” Star said. “I mean, what, you think I’m just gonna pick random folks off the road to get involved in this Orb business?”

Owen rubbed his eyes irritably.

“In other words, since they came _right_ from you,” Amia said, “their auras go just to you, and not some family tree. I get that! But… then, those strange auras from Luxray and Ninjask?” Amia glanced at Owen and the other late-evolvers.

“They don’t have an ancestry at _all_ ,” Star said. “They were… _created_ some other way. Without… parents. I at least gave Rhys and the others a little trace from me, just for, you know, symbolism and stuff.”

“No… parents?” Owen asked. “They were… created? But—you _created_ Rhys, right? So, what’s the difference?”

“They must’ve been created some other way,” Star said. “Maybe… artificially.”

A confused silence filled the air. Then, murmurs. Anam spoke up. “Artificial? …Like Adam? His aura’s weird, too, now that I’m looking at it…”

“ADAM,” the Porygon-Z specified.

“Uhh… maybe?” Star said evasively. “He’s a weird case, but—” Star shook her head. “L-look, not important. But that’s why their auras are strange. No ancestry. They were made some other way—and it seems like they were modified, too, from how their species should be. That’s why they’re called mutants in the first place, y’know? They had some weird abilities. Even other sightings are kinda like that.”

“Pokémon with weird abilities?” Owen asked. He wondered. Should he say this? Yes. He should. Because he wasn’t going to let this go when it already felt so close. It felt like someone tried to tie his memories up and seal them away. But now they were coming back. “You know, no matter how much I try to teach others, I don’t think anybody knows how to do my Fire Trap, but… maybe that’s just because I’m resourceful?”

This time, Owen watched for everyone’s reactions closely. He wasn’t speculating for no reason. The others _knew_ something. And he saw just what he expected. Uncomfortable shuffling where they stood or sat. Some of them didn’t make eye contact. Rhys, in particular, looked like he’d seen death in the face. He looked at Zena next, and the way her serpentine body reacted. He was starting to become a bit more familiar with in terms of body language, if only slightly. He couldn’t identify the emotion she was experiencing based on her muscle movements, but he did know one thing: she had trouble looking at him. For some reason, this one hurt the most.

“…Guys…” Owen said. “…What… aren’t you telling me?” He turned his head, looking at them all. “What… _am_ I?”

Owen wobbled where he stood. He felt faint. He saw Rhys’ paw glowing with a strange light.

 

“Ugh, my back…” Owen muttered, rolling over in bed. “Wh—huh?” he looked up, springing to his feet. “Wait—how long was I…?” He remembered he was planning things out with Star and the others. They were going to try to form a strong team of fighters. Would Owen—no… no, he wouldn’t count. He’s just a Charmander, after all. Just a Charmander…

“Ugh, stop dwelling,” Owen muttered. “I should just ask them about it.”

Owen, seeing the glow of the mushrooms in his room, determined that it was late in the afternoon. “Ugh, my whole sleep schedule is done for.” He looked outside and saw that everybody was still planning, far ahead in Hot Spot Square. “Oh—good! I didn’t miss too much?” he called.

“Oh, hey, Owen! You kinda passed out while you were talking,” Star said. “Feeling better? Listen, you shouldn’t push yourself. If you’re too tired, just sit back and rest.”

“I must’ve been really tired from that fight.” Owen laughed. “Okay! So, um, who’s going to be going and stuff?”

“We ain’t,” Gahi muttered, looking down. “We passed out just like you.”

“Yeah. We just aren’t strong enough, I guess,” Demitri said. “The stress of all that fighting with Rim really got to us. I feel like I was hit by a Golem’s… everything.”

Mispy sighed.

“But don’t worry!” Star said, “You guys can meditate and spar with Rhys and stuff instead, okay? How’s that sound?” The Mew waved her arms encouragingly. “Right now, those ‘clean aura’ Pokémon aren’t doing anything—they must be regrouping, so we should take that time to do the same thing here, y’know? And to be honest, I think it’d be a good idea if we narrowed our numbers down to maybe… a single strong team to handle just one Guardian at a time. So, if you want my opinion on that… Then we should also go back to the Spire of Trials and try for Manny a second time—but with a stronger team. And we need some of us to also rally up some help in Kilo Village for scouting, since… uh… since I have no idea where the other Guardians could be.”

“Hmm,” Amia said. “Well, I wouldn’t consider myself _strong_ , so why don’t I help with rallying?”

“Wait,” Owen said. “Can we do the Trial place again?”

“Huh?”

“I lost against the Feraligatr the last time. Feraligatr Azu. And… And I want a rematch! I’ll do better this time!”

“Owen…” Amia said.

“Please?” Owen pleaded.

Star sighed. “No,” she said. “You need to train, Owen. I’m sorry.”

“B-but…”

“Um, should I stay back, too?” Anam said. The Goodra poked his fingers together; they fused, and then split apart each time. “I know I’m strong, but… you need me to rally up the Association, right?”

“I can do that in your place,” James said.

“But what if I’m defeated? You’ll fizzle up, and the whole town will see it!”

“Hrm…” James said. “I’d rather not imagine a scenario where you die, Anam. Also, I imagine it would be difficult to maintain my form so far away, even for you.”

“Anam, compared to Manny, I don’t think you’ll be defeated like that,” Star said. “But it _would_ be a tough win…”

“Would I be… strong enough?” Zena said.

“Perhaps not,” James said, “but we work as a team together quite well.”

“Yeah, Zena, you seem like you’d be an elegant fighter, if you ask me,” Owen said. “It goes well with how James fights, and maybe it’ll keep Anam calm? And Mom fights like that, too.”

“E-elegant?” Zena blushed.

Star giggled. “Okay, let’s form up the team of elites. Rhys, you might not be the strongest Hunter, but you’re the strongest we have. So, I want you to go and fight Manny himself, okay?”

“Rhys is stronger than me?” Anam said.

“Ehh, I dunno. You guys would have to spar it out,” Star said, “but—trust me, Manny will want to fight Rhys. Now, for the other three fighters. Amia, don’t be modest—you’re pretty tough. So, you’re going, too. Okay?”

“Oh, okay,” Amia said. “Am—am I, really?”

“Yes. You should be able to handle his second-in-command. So as for his third- and fourth-in-command…”

“So, I _really_ can’t go back and fight Azu?” Owen spoke up again.

“Owen, you—you can’t,” Star said. “Train here. Okay?”

Owen crossed his arms, rolling a ball of an ember in his mouth to silence himself. He didn’t bring it up again.

“Next up, uh… Rhys, Amia…” Star spoke under her breath. “…Anam, are you sure you can’t substitute somebody else to rally the team, like James?”

“I guess I could…” Anam said. “Nevren might be able to help, right?” He nibbled on his slimy fingers, thinking. “I just hope we aren’t bothering him.”

“It’s his duty,” James said. “He should be able to do it easily. We will simply speak with him before we go.”

“Okay, and James, you’re pretty tough all on your own, so you’re member number four!” Star said. “Everyone else should focus on training. I’ll have someone other than Anam summon me so I can probably do some coaching.”

Owen listened, but then decided to concentrate on his memories again. He felt it. They were sealed away. It felt like a _plug_ stuck right in his skull, like he couldn’t breathe through his mental nose. What if he thought back harder? Owen earned a massive headache when he tried, but he pushed through anyway, just for something— _anything_ —to satisfy his curiosity.

More memories. He saw Rhys approach him while at the meeting—right before he had passed out. He was telling him something—to go rest, that he was tired. And then, his paw had glowed… and Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all passed out. And then he did right after. And… and that fight. Feraligatr Azu. He wasn’t a Charmander, was he? No. He was too _tall_. But not a Charizard, either.

He wasn’t at thigh-height. He was at belly-height.

_I was a Charmeleon_.

“…Owen?” Rhys asked.

He’d do it again. Rhys would try to make him sleep and forget. “H-huh?” Owen asked. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking about a new strategy for that Feraligatr. I think I know how to beat him!” he said. Putting his knowledge of his own body language to use, he tensed his arms, as if readying a punch. His eyes glowed with a competitive fire. “Or, maybe I can beat him. Maybe. I need to think more. Maybe after I do some training, I can have a rematch when he comes here with Manny!”

Rhys sighed. “Of course,” he said.

As long as he played dumb, he could keep his memories. But why were they gone? What _else_ did he forget? Think, Owen, think… What did they want to hide? And… how is he back to being a Charmander?

Zena’s reaction in particular bothered him. She was with Anam and the others for Cara’s failed rescue. None of Team Alloy was with them, so they must have told her what happened. So, what did they tell her? What did he—and the rest of Team Alloy—do?

What did they _become_?


	19. Holes in the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Anam's team gone, the others stay behind to train. While waiting for everybody to get ready, Owen does some thinking. He doesn't like what he figures out.

Anam, Rhys, James, and Amia all left for Manny’s Spire of Trials. In the meantime, Nevren paid a visit after he was summoned, and left to rally up Kilo Village. That left everybody else to go through some training with Star, who was summoned this time by Zena. Compared to Anam’s strength, Star was barely solid, and for the most part, could only be heard. There were a few instances where Pokémon accidentally passed right through the Mew phantasm because they didn’t see her. And, generally, it was hard to tell the pink cloud of Mew-shaped smoke from everything else.

Owen was sitting at the town square, just below a small bulletin board that went largely unused. He stared at it nostalgically; he knew every corner of that board, the way it was carved from stone and then melted at the edges to look shiny. There was a small bowl of grayish-yellow adhesive to the side of the board that was used to stick papers on; when it was no longer needed, it could just be peeled off. Owen remembered how he once put a notice here. ‘Looking for a new rock, at least two feet in height, polished! Will pay 3000 Poké!’ was what he had posted.

It ended up being a very good rock.

He had bought it with his allowance that he’d saved up from Amia and Alex, after spending most of it on treats and fighting materials. But now, what could he post there? Especially now that he knew all of the other Pokémon that had lived there in town were dead and hiding out in Amia’s Fire Orb to leave room for the newcomers. Owen felt a pang in his chest. How could his parents do that to him? All of the friends he had were spirits. They weren’t even around anymore—they had to make room for all the Guardians and _their_ spirits. What was the point of all that, anyway?

Spirits… It had been a while since Owen thought about the ones he had. Were they watching the whole time? “Wait…” Owen said. He looked around. It seemed that mostly everybody was training in their own corners of Hot Spot Square, focusing on what they felt was most necessary. Zena was nearest to Owen, despite this. Star was also nearby. “Um—Star?”

“Yo.” The Mew in question was watching everybody and their training, giving pointers when necessary. Zena, in particular, was still gathering her energy after expending so much into summoning Star.

“How do I summon spirits?”

“Oh, you wanna learn that? Yeah, I guess you should, especially since everybody else knows how to do it. It actually isn’t that hard, either. Zena, didn’t you accidentally spit someone out when you used Water Gun once?”

“Y-you promised you wouldn’t speak of that!” Zena squeaked.

“O-oh, sorry,” Star said. “But hey, wasn’t a Divine Promise, heh… S-sorry. Really.”

Zena, flushing red, slithered away to compose herself.

“A-anyway, it feels a lot like using an Attack, okay? But instead, it feels like you’re focusing… inward, and then bringing something out… That make sense?”

“I think I understand,” Owen said, closing his eyes. “Inward… inward… Wait—who do I summon?”

“Uhh,” Star said. “Why don’t you try talking to them? It’s kinda like talking to yourself in your head. You’ll get a response. Hey, you might even feel them reaching out. That’ll make it easier to summon them.”

Owen nodded. “Okay, let me try.” He closed his eyes and tried to ignore everything that his five senses were giving him. It was easier than usual; this part of town was quieter, and the heat was nothing to his natural body.

_Um… hello? Is anybody there?_ Owen said. _It’s me, um, Owen._

A few voices replied to him—various forms of hello. Owen knew that if they’d done this to him earlier, he would’ve thought he was going crazy.

_H-hi! I—I didn’t think that’d… work! Um—have you guys always been there?_

Various answers that confirmed.

_W-wow, okay… I didn’t expect that,_ he said. _Are you enjoying watching all this? I hope you guys aren’t too bored there._

Various responses, though they seemed mostly positive.

Owen blushed slightly. _A-anyway, I wanted to summon one of you guys for practice! Is that okay? Who can I summon and stuff? I just really want to learn this new technique. Everyone else knows it, and I gotta catch up!_

_Well… I suppose I can,_ said a voice. Owen got the impression that it was Klent, the Jumpluff—the previous Guardian.

_Klent_ _! Right? I’m glad to hear you again! Um… sorry I didn’t talk to you guys until now. It’s kinda been a really rough few days, and then I got distracted…_

_It’s okay, Owen,_ Klent replied.

Owen felt something inside his chest. No—not quite. But it felt like it was coming from there. Was that Klent trying to summon himself? But he wasn’t quite there. Owen had to help. “Okay,” Owen said. It felt like meditating. He went deep into himself, into his spirit… and found Klent’s presence. Then, with another thought, he pushed him out. More and more… it felt like something rising out of his body. A gentle warmth, even for his Fiery type. Owen briefly wondered if going Grass would’ve made it easier or harder to summon someone.

A blue ember flew out of Owen’s chest, landing a few feet ahead of him. There, the blue ember shaped itself into four little spheres—Owen recognized this as the base of a Jumpluff’s shape. It then solidified enough to be visible, like Klent was made out of lightly colored glass that was also on fire. “A-are… are you okay?” Owen asked.

“I believe so,” Klent replied, looking at his pom-poms. “Hmm. I feel very… ghostly.”

“Sorry. I guess I’m not strong enough yet.”

“Yeah,” Star said, “your Mysticism is actually a lot higher than when you started off, more than I expected, actually, but you don’t know how to use it yet, is the problem,” Star said. “That’s what I’d call a measure of how adept you are at using your divine power. Mysticism. And since you’re still working on it, don’t worry! You’ll improve fast.”

“Mysticisismum… Mystici…” Owen shook his head. “I’m stronger than expected?”

“Mhm,” Star nodded. “See, being exposed to powerful Mystics… kinda also raises the power faster. Like a feedback loop. So, the training you guys do with each other is gonna benefit _you_ the most, Owen, since you’re the furthest behind. Oh, and not to mention you nearly died during that fight with Azu, that boosts your Mystic power, too!”

“I—I have to nearly die to get stronger?! What kind of system is that?!”

“Just a side-effect,” Star shrugged. “It’s not _ideal_ … but hey, you also nearly drowned with Zena, remember? So that’s another boost! Stress on the aura trying to cling to the body is a real workout for the spirit, you know. Usually doesn’t mean anything, but for a Mystic, you can use that to get more in touch with your spiritual side. Literally.”

Owen crossed his arms and pouted. She had a point, but he didn’t want to admit it. This reckless lifestyle that once endangered him was actually paying off. At least he was more strategic in battle. “What else raises Mysticis—mys—is there a better name for it?”

“Divinity?”

“Mysticism it is,” Owen grumbled.

Star giggled. “What else raises it? Lots of spiritual and aural stuff that Rhys does,” she said. “Meditation, mental training, grueling endurance, powerful emotions, near-death experiences… the works. Stuff that the body normally _wouldn’t_ want.”

“So… not fighting?”

“That’s for your normal fighting abilities; that tunes your aura with your body,” Star said. “Mysticism tunes your aura to the power that your body draws from, _directly_. The connection from your aura to your spirit. Subtle difference.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You will. Just practice more.”

“Ngh…”

They repeated this process a few times. Star left to train the others while Owen practiced under Klent’s instructions. Klent vanished as an ember and reentered Owen’s body.

Zena was eventually unable to maintain Star’s form, and the pink smoke faded in the air. Willow summoned her next, practicing with ADAM and Valle. The Joltik practiced summoning her twisted spirits, all of them preferring to become giant mushrooms of some kind, screaming and laughing at anybody who approached, occasionally exploding. ADAM, meanwhile, focused on summoning the few spirits he had within his Normal Orb. They behaved oddly like ADAM, moving stiffly and erratically, though given how transparent they were, it was clear that this was not a technique that the Porygon-Z was used to.

Valle practiced my meditating. That is, he stood still in the middle of Hot Spot and observed the cave’s walls.

“Is that even a valid way to train?”

“Well, it’s meditating,” Star said. Her smoky form made what Owen could only guess was a shrug. “And I guess since he’s expanding his aura a ton to feel the whole cave, that’s pretty good training. And—”

Willow and a few of her mushrooms screamed at one another. Willow tackled a blue one, which puffed up and exploded, making all of the others scream and hop along the ground, tackling one another.

“Oh, come on,” Star sighed. “I gotta go break them up.” She flew away, leaving Owen and Zena alone.

The Charmander stared uneasily at the exploding mushrooms. “How long have we known her, again?” he said.

“Not very long,” Zena replied. “…Do you… not remember?”

Owen looked at Zena. “I mean,” he said, “I know that we met her recently, but I kinda—I don’t know. To be honest,” he laughed nervously, “I think this Mystic stuff is making my memories a little foggy. Is that normal?”

“I’m sure it’s just shock,” Zena said, strained. “Owen, do you—do you really not remember anything? How much do you remember?”

“I remember I was fighting Azu,” Owen said. “And I remember… I think I remember fighting Willow. And training. I think I remember that. Oh, and I remember fighting that Aerodactyl. I wonder how he’s doing.”

Zena fidgeted with her ribbons. “What about me?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“Me. Do you remember anything about me?”

Owen paused. “…Oh! I remember we fought Rhys. Yeah. That was pretty scary, actually. I hope when I get stronger, I can rematch him.” He nodded. “He beat me in one hit.”

“You only remember your fights?” Zena asked.

Owen scratched the back of his head in thought. “Yeah, I think so. But that’s the most important part, in a way, since I can learn from all those fights. Muscle memory! That’s a really important type of memory.”

Zena stared in silence. Her tail coiled around itself in a tight circle.

“Did… did we hang out more often than what I’m remembering?” he asked.

“No, we didn’t,” Zena said curtly. “Your memory is just fine. Like I said, Owen. You’re still in some kind of shock from the fight. Your Mystic power will help you recover in time.”

“Hmm,” Owen said. “I don’t know, Zena.” He eyed her carefully. “Can you at least fill me in on some of the details I’m missing? Maybe it’ll help jog my memory!”

“No. You’re just fine,” Zena said.

She seemed tense, but Owen’s perception was dull. He had the vaguest idea that his senses used to be a lot sharper for these sorts of things. But now? It all felt muddled.

And he _knew_ he used to be a Charmeleon. Zena should have known, too. Why was she hiding it from him? It was like everybody was playing along to keep the secret from him. I could tell that much. Zena knew, too. He saw it in her eyes. But—was it for something important…? Or was it just another lie, like Hot Spot’s villagers?

No. He wasn’t going to live through something like that again. Zena felt too important for him to leave those memories locked away. He didn’t know why. It was just a _feeling_. Feelings. He could remember those. If only he could also remember the details. He also had a _feeling_ who it was that was behind keeping everyone quiet.

“Zena,” Owen said. “Do you trust Star?”

“Star?” Zena said. “Of course not.”

Owen wasn’t expecting such a forward answer. “O-oh. You don’t?”

“No. I’m only following this group because you—” Zena stopped herself. “…Because… it’s better than being alone. There are others that I can talk to here and I feel safer. I can tell that it’s the same for most of the other Guardians, too. It isn’t that we trust Star. It’s that she’s offering a better alternative than… being alone. And, I suppose in Valle’s case, he’s satisfied with his new cave.” The Milotic rolled her eyes at the thought of the strange statue. “But don’t you remember why I don’t trust… well, no… why I simply can’t _forgive_ her so easily? I’d think at least _that_ would be something you’d remember,” she hissed.

“A-about that,” Owen said, shrinking back. “O-oh, wait. I think I do, I—”

Owen sat in the middle of Anam’s office. Zena was trembling around him, burying her face in her coils. Her body constricted around Owen, her scales grinding against the rocky wall behind her. The Charmeleon desperately held Zena steady, trying to keep her together.

Owen clutched at his head. “ _OHH,_ that one hurt,” he grunted. His tiny body would’ve been split in two if she squeezed any harder! But that memory… that confirmed it. Charmeleon. He looked up at the Milotic in his memory.

Zena gasped, slithering backward. “Owen?” She bit at her lower lip uncertainly.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine. I think—I think I should stop thinking for a little bit.” Owen looked up, seeing the Milotic back away like she’d done something she shouldn’t have. Eyes of regret. She _was_ keeping it a secret. _Everyone_ was. It was Hot Spot all over again. “Zena? Listen—tell me again, just—why, with Star and—”

“I need to go,” Zena said abruptly, turning around.

“Uh—Zena!” Owen said. “Wait! I—”

“Practice your summoning,” the Milotic said. “I need to meditate.”

“But…” Owen frowned. “But I just… want to remember…”

_Owen…_ Klent said from within his spirit. _Let’s just practice for now. Let her unwind. She’s obviously tense._

_Okay, so that wasn’t just me?_ Owen said. _I know I upset her with what I said, but—I just don’t remember, Klent! I—_

_She understands. She just needs time. Please, let’s keep practicing_.

Owen sighed. _Fine._

Owen summoned him again, over and over, improving his technique until—finally—the Jumpluff appeared, but instead of being opaque like before, he was solid. The Jumpluff was indistinguishable from others, just like the other spirits that Owen knew all his life. This thought sent another pang through him—of what, he still couldn’t identify. Anger, betrayal, sadness… confusion. He was pretty sure it was confusion. He couldn’t see himself holding a terrible grudge against his own parents, after all. They meant well.

_I better not be developing a complex,_ Owen thought bitterly. But then he addressed Klent with a smile and a presenting motion with his arms.

“Oh, you did it,” Klent said, inspecting his pom-poms with a neutral expression. “Very good.”

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” Owen said, crossing his arms. “I mean, c’mon, aren’t you glad to be alive again? I mean… basically-alive? …Solid?”

“…I suppose I am,” Klent said. “I just didn’t think it would be under these circumstances.”

“Oh—circumstances?” Owen asked. “What do you mean, circumstances?” Owen glanced at Klent and, for half of a second, they locked eyes. Owen saw… something, there, in those eyes. What was it? It put a horrible pit in his stomach, something eating at him from the inside. He gulped. “Klent?”

Klent shook his head. “Sorry. I suppose I’m still bitter about dying, is all.”

Owen nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s pretty… yeah,” he said, stepping forward. But that look Klent gave him. It was similar to what he saw before when he first entered the Grass Orb. That hesitation to meet him. Why did they all hesitate? Were they shy, or…? And the way Klent looked at him, too.

“…Owen?” Klent asked. His eyes softened. “Are you okay?”

“I—yeah, I’m okay,” Owen said. “Klent… can I ask you something?”

“As… as one of your spirits, I suppose I’ll have to at least listen to your question,” he said.

Owen glanced back. Star was still busy. He looked back at Klent. If there was one person he could put his trust in right now, it’d be the very spirits that were a part of his being. They wouldn’t lie to him. “How come I’m a Charmander again?”

“Pick a different question,” Klent said lowly.

“S-so I really was a Charmeleon,” Owen said softly.

Klent looked at Star. “Owen, stay here, I need to—”

“Please, don’t tell her,” Owen said. “I don’t want to forget. I… it’s messing with my head. I feel like I’m losing my mind—why? What’s happening? Why does it feel like there are huge _holes_ where my past should be? I—I don’t even know how old I am, Klent. _Please_ … What’s… why am… why is everything like this?”

The Jumpluff hesitated again. He looked cornered and eyed Star. He wouldn’t be able to get there in time even if he tried. His eyes were frantic and said it all: Owen wasn’t supposed to be behaving this way, and it was a surprise. Why was he regaining his memories so quickly?

“Why did Star trust _me_ to have this Orb?” Owen asked. “What’s so special about _me_? How come I’m so strong for a Charmander, a—a late-evolver, too. Like the others. Why… why can I do Fire Trap? Only I know it. _Only_ me.” Owen’s mind was racing. Connecting. He was always good at this—when he was focused on something, he could make connections quickly and easily. He did it in battle all the time, finding just the right tactic to beat an opponent many times stronger than he was. But tactics alone wouldn’t make him that special. James was the same way—tactical—perhaps even better. So why _him_?

Owen thought again. What other people had strange, special talents? Stronger than usual? Late-evolving? Gahi. A Trapinch that was incredibly fast. He gave off the signs of a Pokémon with Speed Boost, on top of already incredible speed, even for his slowest, larva-like form. Mispy. Her aura reading, for one, not to mention her incredible healing talent. Demitri. He was slow, but nothing held back his attacks. He could take more hits than all of them combined. Owen had a vague memory of him smashing through even his Protect shields of light during a distant sparring match.

Those strange Pokémon. The Ninjask that Star talked about. The Luxray, too. They were strange, just like he was. A Pokémon with no ancestry. A Pokémon that was _created_ by some other way. Who were his parents? The ones he was born from. Amia and Alex never knew. And Rhys—why did he know so much about—

The bed. The Rawst bed. Not only did he have one in his home in Hot Spot Cave, but there was also one in Rhys’ old home. Who would ever need a Rawst bed in that cave? Rhys didn’t take guests. Sure, he tended to gather useless trinkets. But a Rawst bed?

“Klent…” Owen finally said again. The Jumpluff was taking slow steps away, trying to get to Star. “Please, wait! Klent! I… I need to know!” he said.

Klent ran as fast as his light body would allow. Little puffs of dandelion seeds flew from his pom-poms in his frantic dash. Owen didn’t yet know how to forcibly recall a spirit. He had to chase after him.

“Klent, PLEASE!” Owen yelled. “What— _what am I?!_ ”

Star turned around, ears twitching at the question. She saw Klent running toward him with primal fear in his glassy eyes, and then Owen right behind him. She flicked her hand and created a barrier to stop Owen from advancing; he slammed his fist helplessly against it. Star floated toward him.

“Whoa, whoa, h-hang on, Owen!” Star said. “Just—just breathe, okay? Just breathe…! This’ll only take a second…!”

“NO! DON’T TAKE THEM AWAY!” Owen screamed, clutching his head. Star’s paw glowed, but when he said that, the light flickered. “ _P-please_ ,” Owen said again, staring at the Mew with wide eyes. “I… I don’t want to forget! I know someone’s messing with my head—taking away my memories…! There’s… they’re missing… I’m missing so much of my past! I—I can see the holes, they’re—they’re all covered up and scooped out of my head…!” Tears bubbled at the sides of his eyes, tracing the ridges of his scales.

“O-okay, Owen, just—just calm down! Look, l-look, no light! It’s gone, no light…!” Star waved her paws in the air; indeed, the light was gone.

Hyperventilating, Owen sat down. He was dizzy. He wanted to throw up.

He sat in the middle of some forest, reading a book with Amia and Alex nearby. They had gone out more often back then. How far back? He was a Charmeleon.

He was playing marbles with a few of the other villagers. He was a Charmander. His tiny hands made it easy to make precise shots. He won every time.

The chest pain returned. Something ran right through his back—a blade from the end of a tail, plunged into him. His mother cried his name.

He was flying—the memory abruptly cut off.

“O-oh… oh, Arceus… h-how old am I…?” Owen said. His head was pounding. He wasn’t sure if it was his breathing or his tears that made his vision so blurry.

“Owen, shh, shh… just… just breathe, okay? Stay with me.” Star said. “Your aura is out of control—just breathe… Owen? Close your eyes… just focus on my voice, okay? Owen, can you hear me? Owen?”

It wasn’t working. Owen’s entire body was shaking; he couldn’t see anymore. It was all dark. It felt like his tail’s flame was covering his whole back.

He heard roaring. It was his voice. He remembered _roaring_. Such a horrible noise. The roars in his mind translated into desperate whimpers for the others to hear.

“Owen,” Zena said, right beside him. Owen didn’t even realize she had been there. “Breathe.”

Owen choked on his breath, clutching at his chest. It felt like his ribs were splitting apart.

“You’ve got this, Owen,” Star said. “In and out. Breathe easy. Theeere you go…”

Breathe, breathe… Meditate. Rhys always asked that. Rhys—!

He sat next to Gahi. He sank halfway into the sand pit, muttering something. Owen laughed and said, “Just do it, we can fight later!” And then he closed his eyes.

They sat at the table. Rhys gave Owen a little smile. He had his favorite dish today. Gahi groaned, wanting something meatier.

Owen had Rhys’ neck in his giant claws—the memory abruptly stopped.

 “Owen, stay with me, c’mon,” Star said softly. By now, everybody was staring at them. Owen didn’t know; his eyes were shut tight.

“Owen, I’m going to put a small block on your memory, okay? I won’t erase anything. I’m just going to stop them from coming for a little while.”

Owen didn’t say anything. He was burning.

He walked through Kilo Village with a spring in his step. As a Charmeleon, he’d surely be accepted into the Association!

There was a frightened little Spinarak with a few injured legs. He offered an Oran Berry. The wild thing ate it, spat a String Shot in his face, and fled. Owen shouted something about being ungrateful.

Owen felt the warm embrace of a fellow Charmander. They were both crying silently. He didn’t want to let go.

“Owen? Owen, are you okay?” Star said.

It felt like there was still a lot more missing. He didn’t know how much was gone—but a lot still was. But the flood was frozen in place. Ready to topple over him at any second, yet frozen for now. Owen breathed slowly.

“Star…” he finally said. Feeling slightly more secure with what he had, and what he didn’t yet have to deal with, he asked, “What’s wrong with me…?”

The Mew nodded and pat his shoulder. She floated to his height—a little, pink puff that tried her best to comfort him with words. “A lot, Owen, a lot,” she said, “but you’re going to be okay, alright? You have me. You have everyone else. We’re here for you, alright?”

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were all staring, confused. “What’s going on?” Demitri asked. “What’s Owen talking about? Is he…? Is that Orb driving him crazy?”

“C-can it do that…?” Mispy asked. She was hiding her leaf behind her head; it was getting a total sensory overload at the pulsing flare Owen’s aura gave off. His panic made it an inferno; her ability to sense auras was shot like she was hit by three Flash attacks all at once. What was happening to his head?

“Oy, Owen,” Gahi said.

Owen gulped and opened his eyes. “G-Gahi…?”

“Y’alright?” he asked.

“I…” Owen stopped. He felt… grounded, hearing Gahi speak to him. “I’m okay… I think I’m okay.”

He looked at Zena next, and the pain in his chest slowly subsided.

Star sighed, feeling Owen’s aura calm down. It was still flaming—but it was at least no longer like staring at the sun.

“Owen?” Zena spoke up. She was among the many training Guardians that had paused to see if Owen was okay.

“H-hi, Zena,” Owen said. He realized that everybody was staring at him; he lowered his head in shame. “I—I’m sorry. I… I’m making a huge scene over nothing…”

“It’s not nothing,” Zena said. The Milotic could relate. No breakdown was over nothing. There was always a reason—and it felt like this was over something much deeper than a bit of stress. “Star, why don’t we make lunch for him?”

“I—I want to make lunch for Owen, too!” Willow said.

“There is a fresh collection of underground berries,” Valle said, “located in hallway E after a left, right, left, and left turn. They will serve Owen well.”

“Okay. We’ll all take a break for lunch,” Star said.

“Guardians do not require food,” ADAM said.

“Then—train if you like, but take a break if you want,” Star said. “Owen, want to head to, uh, Rhys’ place? We’ll whip up something nice.”

 

Owen’s mind was still racing, but perhaps now it was at a jog rather than a sprint. He was making connections about his blurry past and what he already knew. With Star putting a block on the remaining memories that were hidden away, he could work with that manageable portion without being overwhelmed by the rest.

He was definitely a Charmeleon during his fight with Azu. But then, something happened. He remembered… an intense heat. And a pressure in his chest. The heat he felt before when he had evolved the first time. And he felt that heat many, many times before. He _became_ a Charmeleon countless times—he evolved, over and over, and then forgot, becoming a Charmander again. It was always Rhys—or… or Amia. They were the ones who somehow brought him back to normal.

Normal. Normal from _what_?

Owen thought about his strange dreams. He thought they were just fantasies about being a Charizard, but… no. There was no way they were fantasies. That _happened_. He was a Charizard before. And Gahi was a Flygon—and Demitri, a Haxorus, and Mispy, a Meganium. They _all_ were, before. But something happened… what happened? He can’t remember. That was still locked away. Those times with Team Alloy, fully evolved, felt like incredibly early memories. How far back did it go? How long ago was that? How many evolution cycles…?

“Owen!” Gahi shouted.

“Wh—buh—huh?” Owen said, jolting awake.

“Arceus in the Sky, ‘mon, we’ve been calling yeh ten times!” Gahi said.

“You look lost in thought again,” Demitri said. “Are—are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m… I don’t think I’m okay,” Owen said. “My head’s spinning with all these memories… and you were all in them, too,” he said. “Gahi, do you ever remember—”

“Ah, ah, ah! Owen! Not yet,” Star said.

“H-huh…?”

“Not yet. Please,” Star said carefully.

Owen gulped but nodded. “O-okay…” he said. She had a point. There was no telling what would happen if Gahi had the same sort of panic that he did.

Owen realized, like a punch in the gut, that the reason everyone was keeping him ignorant was because Star, or perhaps Rhys or Amia, had told them what would happen if he got his memories back. And then, against their wishes, he pried too far, and the memories came spilling back. And now, everything hurt.

Owen stared at his claws while they waited for lunch. He focused, turning his scales green, and then orange, and then green again. He was getting better at that.

The previous Grass Guardian, Klent… Owen sighed. What was that look he gave him? It wasn’t the first time. Still, there was something bothering him. He looked to the right, where Klent was sitting at the table, though he requested Star not make anything for him—he didn’t need to eat, after all. He didn’t want to take up resources if he didn’t have to.

“Klent?” Owen said. His heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, Owen?” Klent said. He was speaking respectfully, but Owen could still sense a bit of coldness in his voice. Owen was starting to wonder why, connecting more and more of his fragmented memories together. He couldn’t complete the full picture. He was filling in the blanks with speculation. The more he inferred and guessed, the smaller the gaps felt.

Owen couldn’t remember anything beyond evolving into a Charizard. He didn’t even know if that’s what actually _happened_. What if he became… something else? The strange auras… The lack of ancestry. A clean history. _No_ history. His strange dreams. His instinct for battle—his _abnormal_ need to fight.

That look. Klent’s eyes. Those _eyes_.

“Klent,” Owen finally said. “…How did you die?”

Star fumbled by the stove, dropping the berries in too fast. The hot water splashed through her smoky body. The Mew cursed under her breath, turning back.

Klent looked away. He looked at Star, instead. The Mew shook her see-through head frantically, but Klent shook his head back. It was too late. Owen’s memories couldn’t be sealed away anymore. He was a Guardian—that trick wasn’t going to work as easily, or perhaps at all. He was going to find out eventually. Just as the memories of Rhys and the other Hunters couldn’t be sealed—a Guardian was just as immune to that kind of influence.

The Jumpluff nodded at the Charmander. “I’m sorry, Owen,” Klent said. “But… I think I know what you’re thinking. And… you’re right.”

The world stood still.

Owen didn’t want to ask. But his mouth moved on its own. “M-meaning…?”

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all exchanged dumbfounded looks. What was going on? Where was Owen getting all these crazy ideas from? And, more importantly—why was everybody else playing along?! They always felt like everyone else knew something they didn’t. They were _quite_ eager to have Owen tell them the answer.

Klent sighed as if bracing for it as well. “I’m sorry, but… it’s true. You’re right.”

“Th-that the way you died… I…?”

“You killed me,” the former Guardian said, “and my daughter.”


	20. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Owen leaves to clear his thoughts, Amia and the other elites leave to confront Manny for a second time. While more prepared physically, they still run into a few surprises once they reach the top.

Shortly after Klent revealed his cause of death, Owen had left the table, saying that he wanted to think. Nobody stopped him, though they did watch to see where he went. Zena, however, started to slither after him.

“Zena, wait—” Star said.

Zena spun her head back and gave a glare to the Mew so intense that her pink, misty form fizzled halfway out of existence.

Zena resumed her pursuit. “Owen,” she said.

The Charmander didn’t stop. He was going straight for his home, to his room. The group collectively sighed in relief, but Zena pressed on. He needed company. Even if he didn’t remember it, he gave her company in her time of need. It was high time she returned the favor.

“Owen,” Zena said again. “Please, look at me.”

“No,” Owen said. “I need to think.”

“Owen,” Zena said softly. “May… may I follow you to your room?”

Owen didn’t object, so Zena followed, taking that as an affirmative. She knew it wasn’t the case.

The Charmander went to his room and puffed a small plume of fire at the central fire pit, immediately setting it alight. He dug through his bag next, rummaging for something to calm his nerves. Zena, now closer, noticed that Owen was still trembling. He could barely hold his bag open.

Zena couldn’t find her words. He was only a few feet away, and yet they were a world apart.

“Did you know?” Owen said, not turning his head away from the contents of his bag.

Voice missing, Zena could only gulp.

“Did you know I killed him? Did Star tell you?” Owen kept his gaze fixed on the bag.

The Water Guardian was still unable to speak.

“Does everyone here know what’s wrong with me? And they just aren’t telling me?”

It ate away at Zena. When Owen didn’t say anything further, the silence was unbearable. She had to break it. “I—” Zena choked. “I… I’m sorry, Owen.”

Thick silence. The fire crackled a few times in the pit.

“Right.” Owen pulled out something from the bag and bit into it. In a blink, he vanished. All that remained of him, for a split-second, were the last few embers of his flame.

“Owen has vanished,” Valle announced to the others, just outside in the square.

“WHAT?!”

Gahi, the fastest, rushed to the home—followed by Willow, the second fastest. “Zena! What happened?!” Gahi said, but then saw Owen’s bag half-open in his room.  “…Warp Seed.”

Zena turned around. The mutterings and discussion among the others were blurry murmurs to her. She couldn’t get that image out of her head. The moment before he left, Owen had looked at her. They made eye contact for just a second. Owen’s eyes had never looked so empty and lightless.

“V-Valle! Uh—d-d’you know where he went?” Demitri asked.

“I am searching for him now. The Warp Seed must have brought him somewhere within these caverns.” The motionless Rock Shiftry then went silent for a few seconds. “I have found him. He is deeper inside of the caves. He is heading toward the lava flow.”

“Wh-why?!” Willow said. “He’ll burn up!”

“Doubtful,” ADAM said. “Owen’s species is capable of surviving in the lava. It is their habitat. It is very likely that he is going there to cool his system. The irony is not lost on me.”

The Porygon-Z buzzed to fill the worried silence.

“Additionally,” he continued, “it is likely a place where we cannot approach as easily. He wants to think in an isolated environment.”

“At least he’s not running off somewhere stupid again,” Star said. “So that’s a start. And, to be honest, _Klent_ , I don’t blame him this time!”

“If I vanish,” Klent said, “it means Owen’s power is waning. You can use me as an… indicator, if you like.” He rubbed his pom-poms together. “Was I too harsh? He may have… been the one to kill me, but…” Klent hesitated.

“I still don’t believe that,” Gahi said. “What d’you mean, he killed yeh?”

“It’s just as I said,” replied Klent. “Owen is responsible for my death. His flames are what snuffed out mine.”

Gahi clicked his jaws irritably. “How long were yeh waiting ter break that line out?” he said. “As… as just a Charmander? C’mon, don’t kid us like that.”

“He was not a Charmander,” Klent said. “He was… some sort of Charizard. A very powerful one… very…” He shivered slightly. “It is not a memory I like to revisit. I was not the only one to die. My daughter was also killed. It still affects her, as any death would. She still doesn’t want to see Owen. I… I don’t blame her.”

“But… he’s a Charmander,” Demitri said. “He never evolved! He…! He…!”

“Oh boy,” Star mumbled, forming a strange, white light in her paws again.

Zena glared but did nothing. Demitri was clutching at his head, wobbling where he stood. The other two weren’t doing any better. Star fired—the white light enveloped them dimly, and the three collapsed, asleep before their panic could fully set in.

Star sighed. “So much for that,” she said. “Don’t worry, guys. When they wake up, I think they’ll just assume they got tuckered out after their meal. Just play along like before, okay? They’ll believe you if you fill in the blanks. Let their own heads trick them on the rest. Zena, can you carry them to their beds again?”

Zena stared at the three helpless creatures. They would never know who they were, what they became. They’d live, forever, in ignorance of that, while everyone else acted as if they were totally normal. Lie after lie after lie. Until what?

Klent looked at his pom-poms. “Oh. I’m fading,” he said. “but—Owen feels just fine. Valle?”

“Owen is walking.”

“I think he’s too far away from me,” Klent said. “I won’t be able to…” he faded, returning to Owen’s core as a blue ember.

Star sighed. “Zena?” she said. “C’mon, none of us are good at carrying things. ADAM’s too smooth, Willow’s smaller than Anam’s toe, and Valle’s Valle. Can you help out?”

Zena wasn’t sure what came over her. There was a strange heat on the sides of her head, combined with an accelerating heart rate. Like she was preparing for a fight. She stared at Star. The Milotic’s words came without a filter. “Why should we listen to _anything_ you say?”

Star flinched. “H-huh? What do you mean?”

“All of this,” Zena said, staring at her. “Why are we keeping the truth hidden away from them? What they are. They’re the very same things being sent to kill the other Guardians. And now, Owen knows it. H-he forgot everything. He forgot _me_. Why can’t he remember? Why should I follow your word, Star?!”

Star floated stiffly, tiny, smoky paws clenched. “Because I’m the one keeping you all alive,” she said. “If I didn’t organize to get you guys, you’d all be dead. Your Orbs would be with Eon, and he’d be halfway to ruling the world by now. Zena, you have to _trust_ —”

“I will _never_ trust you,” Zena hissed, slithering until she was mere inches away from Star’s ill-defined face. “Your sins will never wash away, _Creator_. You did this. _You_ made the Hunters. _You_ kept the Guardians sealed away. And _you_ ,” she used one of her ribbons to push at the Mew’s chest, “are the reason for all of this.” With one firm press, she knocked Star back a few feet.

Willow fidgeted. “S-stop fighting…” she said quietly. “This isn’t fun…”

Nobody listened. Star floated where she had been pushed, staring at Zena. She looked around at the others for support. ADAM and Valle were indifferent. Willow skittered toward Zena, hiding near her coils. Team Alloy was either gone or unconscious. She had nobody. And Zena, realizing this, gave the Mew a twisted, sick grin. If Star was going to kill her then, she could at least feel satisfied that she did it knowing she was right.

But then, the Mew spoke. “You don’t… you think I don’t know that?” Her voice trembled. “I know. I kn-know I ruined everything. I know it’s all my fault. I just… I j-just can’t… _do_ anything on my own. I need you guys to… fix my mistake. Because I can’t.”

This caught her off guard. But she wasn’t going to let up. “And why is that, O Creator?” Zena asked. “You seem to do well enough with modifying _my_ memories to your wishes, let alone Owen’s or the rest of Team Alloy. Why don’t you just do that now, hm? Wipe it all away. Go on. What’s stopping you?” Zena slithered closer, never taking her eyes off of the Mew, even when the deity looked away.

She finally spoke in a voice so tiny, even Zena struggled to hear it. “I can’t.”

She knew it. Despite this going exactly as she had expected, the Milotic’s sneer faltered. “And why is that?”

“I only wiped those memories away in the spirit world. When you meditated and sank into your Water Realm,” she said. “And even then… it was because I was ready for it. You trusted me. Your mind was open enough for me to… if you reacted badly…” Star shook her head. “I can’t do that anymore. You’ll never let me inside. And… and that’s a good thing. I never should have in the first place. I’m _sorry_ , Zena. I’m… sorry.”

No. Stay strong. She _won’t_ influence her with tears. That was how it worked before. “That isn’t good enough,” Zena hissed. “ _Sorry_ won’t make up for my centuries away. For the life I could have lived, simple and happy with petty worries. _Sorry,”_ her voice cracked, “won’t make up for the fact that _I’m alone again!_ ” Her echo bounced off of the cavern walls. ADAM buzzed anxiously. Willow nuzzled against Zena, sending a mild, irritable shock through her scales.

“You aren’t alone,” Willow said. “I’m here. And I’m your friend!”

“You have heightened user permissions,” ADAM stated to Zena.

“I tolerate your movement,” Valle said.

Zena puffed a few times through her nose. Her heart was racing and she didn’t know why. She didn’t expect to get this far. She was ready to throw everything away just to get _one_ jab at Star before leaving to the aura sea. She was ready to be made an example of, to experience a Creator’s wrath, just to prove a point. In hindsight, it was completely illogical. But she still did it. In some stupor, she finally laid her heart bare for the others to see its pain, and for Star to finally end it.

But none of that happened. Instead, the pink mist floated there, staring at the four Guardians. She was too ill-defined to see an expression on her, but her voice was clear.

“I’ll fix everything. I—I just need help. I’m helping as much as I can. I’m working as fast as I—and—and I’ll make Owen better,” Star said. “That’s—that’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time, Zena. I’ll have him remember everything. I—I just need _time_ , Zena. He’s not ready! You saw how he reacted! If I gave it all to him now, he’d—he’d totally _lose it_. You believe me on that, at least, right?!”

Zena’s body tensed, looking for a fault in the logic. Star wasn’t going to deceive her again. But… she had a point. Owen’s aura was _blazing_ before Star blocked his memories.

“Owen,” Zena repeated. “You can easily modify his memories, even outside of the spirit world. Yet, you can’t for us?” she said.

Star shook her head. “I’m not modifying them. I’m sealing them. His brain makes up for what’s missing.”

“That does not sound like best-practice,” ADAM said.

“Yet, you still can’t do that to us. I doubt Owen and the others trusted you enough to give you free access to their minds,” Zena said. “Does that mean you’re _lying_? That you’re—"

“They were designed that way,” Star blurted. “They…” she looked down. “That’s how their minds are supposed to be. They have an intentional vulnerability in their auras to revert them to their lowest forms if needed. If you inspected them up close, you’d see the same thing. Ask Anam or Amia. They’ll say exactly what I said. And that same vulnerability seals away their memories. All you need is the right aura _key_ , and…” She motioned to the three slumbering mutant larvae. “Rhys is an aura expert. He taught it to _me_ , Zena. And then to Amia. If you want to help control Owen and ease him into recovery, have Rhys teach it to you, too.”

Zena’s adrenaline, by now, was gone. “And you want to save him?” she said.

“Of course I do. All of them,” Star said. “That’s the whole _point_. I just want them to live normal lives. I want _everyone_ to live normal lives. I want the Hunters gone—or at least, for them to give up. So the world can be at peace. So everything can be… fixed. But I… can’t do that on my own.”

“Why not?” Zena said. “What’s stopping you from just coming to the real world and wiping the Hunters out yourself? You’re the Creator!” Zena shouted. “Descend upon the mortal realm and make it so!”

“Wh—” Star shook her head. “What, you think I wouldn’t do that if I could?! I’d’ve done that a long time ago! I can only see the world through you guys if you _let_ me! If you guys block me from your realms, I… I’ll be…” She shook her head. “I can’t, okay? I’m not descending on the world any time soon.”

“Then why not?!” Zena said. “Or are you afraid that if you show your face here, we’ll kill you? Because in the end, you think we’ll turn on you because you were the one who—”

“I’m not afraid that you’re going to kill me!”

“Is that a challenge?!” Zena raised her voice.

“No!” She raised her voice even more. “ _I’m not afraid because I’M ALREADY DEAD!”_

This time, despite her tiny, smoky body, it was Star’s voice that echoed throughout the cave.

“I _literally_ _can’t_ come down. It’s the same way for Arceus. We’re dead, Zena. Dead gods! And neither of us will let the other come back. So, we’re stuck.” Star turned around. “I’ll never let Arceus down again. And he won’t let me, either. And if we can stop the Hunters from upsetting that balance… then that’s all I want.”

“You want… to stay dead?” Zena asked.

Star looked away. “I’m… tired, Zena. I’m… I’m s-so tired…”

Zena’s breathing was completely normal again. He looked at the others.

Willow sparked a few times anxiously, squirting a bit of web beneath her body. “Oops…”

Zena sighed. “We have a common goal. Save Owen, and stop the Hunters. I suppose I can work alongside you until that is completed.” She looked away. “You’ll need to work more for my trust beyond that.”

“Thank you,” Star said. “Can… can I get a hug?”

Zena slithered toward her home. “I am going to wait for Owen.”

Willow hopped—and partially sank—into Star’s arms instead.

<><><> 

Every step the four elite fighters took made soft echoes in the long, winding cave. From the outside, the Spire of Trials looked like a giant spike from the ground. Smooth. It was the perfect monument, and they were sure that Guardian Manny and his spirits had crafted it themselves from a mountain. They must’ve had a lot of spare time.

Amia lit the way forward with a blue flame. The light revealed how well-polished the halls were. “Amazing,” Amia said. “Do you suppose they chiseled it with nothing but punches and, ah, their determined fighting spirit?” Amia winced. “I apologize, Rhys. I’m not familiar with your Typing and their tendencies.”

“I wouldn’t consider myself typical,” Rhys said, but then pointed forward, into the first arena.

And there he was. Feraligatr Azu, posing with his bulging muscles in various stances to show off each one. Every flex felt like it made the air itself bend in shockwaves, the sheer power radiating from him making the atmosphere tremble. It was likely all for show.

“Goodness,” Amia said quietly. “It’s as if his muscles have muscles.” She wondered if she could make Alex look like that with a bit of Mystic work.

“Hm,” Rhys said. “From how I understand it, we will be fighting in an order of some kind? From weakest to strongest…”

“Who is weakest of us…?”

“Me,” James said, nodding. “I may be strong… but I am still limited by Anam’s own power output. It would be best if I attack first, and then Anam follows sometime after.”

“Isn’t Anam… only defensive?” Amia said.

“He has a kind heart,” James said, “but against spirits, he knows he can’t hurt others. He will be able to fight at his best.”

Rhys nodded. “Then, I am fighting Manny… That leaves you two,” he nodded to Anam and Amia, “to decide who will fight the third and second strongest.”

“I wouldn’t consider myself the greatest of fighters,” Amia said. “Not compared to _you_ , Anam! The Association Head of the Thousand Hearts Association… you’re definitely stronger!”

Anam giggled and blushed a slight purple under his cheeks. “Aww, I’m not _that_ good… but okay, if you say so, I’ll fight after you.”

“Got it,” Amia said.

And with that, James finally called out to the Feraligatr. “Azu! We are ready to battle you with our weakest member, me,” he said. “Do you accept my challenge?”

“Of course, I accept!” Azu said, stomping the ground. “Ha! You are familiar!” Azu called out to Amia. “Are these your best?”

“Y-yes!” Amia called back. “We’re the strong four of our group, more or less! Well—so far, at least!”

“Yes,” James said. “So, don’t think this will be as easy as your fight with Owen.”

“Owen?” Azu repeated. “H-ha! The Charmeleon, you mean!”

“Yes. That was Owen—I’m quite a bit stronger than he is. Do not expect this fight to go as well.”

“To go as well?” Azu said. “Ha! I see! You mean to say that you are even more powerful than Owen!”

“Yes. I do mean that,” James said. “Did I not state that outright?”

“I see! Very well!” Azu shouted back, clapping his hands together. “Thank you for informing me!”

There was an odd silence then, where Azu didn’t say anything, and neither did the group. The four expected him to make some sort of statement about taking the first hit or getting ready for a tough fight. At the very least, they expected Azu to perform some sort of Ultimate Pose Technique to dazzle them. But he just stood there, claws tapping one another with his hands together.

“Goodbye!” Azu declared. He exploded in a flurry of blue embers. The way forward lit up with a dim glow on the opposite side of the arena.

“Oh,” Amia said. “That was… an interesting reaction.”

“I did not expect a forfeit,” James stated, removing himself from his battle stance. “Amia, did you understate Owen’s fighting abilities?”

“W-well, he was getting his scales handed to him when he was a Charmeleon.”

“But how was he after he evolved?” Anam asked.

“Um… he was a much more difficult opponent,” Amia said.

“You may have understated his abilities.” Rhys nodded. “Nevertheless, we should advance. Amia, prepare yourself for your battle. True to his Orb, Manny wants to see our strength before joining us.”

“Right… of course,” Amia said. “Hmm… oh, how should I approach this battle? It won’t be too hard, will it?”

“We can’t know the strength of the third-strongest fighter. He could be slightly stronger, or leagues stronger than Azu.”

They passed through the exit and continued up the spiral. It was much like the last passageway, only with a slightly sharper curve. It was the only indication that they were higher in the spiral. After a few more circles around, they saw another dim glow. This one was a slightly green glow, flickering with movement. “Here we go,” Amia said.

“Hrruuoogh!”

Amia quickly brought up her flames. The blue embers danced around her like tiny Illumise. They saw a Chesnaught posing in the middle of the room. Like Azu, he was bipedal, with a muscular build. What distinguished him, however, was his large, beige shell with four huge spikes on his back. The shell also appeared to have muscles.

“Be careful, Amia,” James said. “Chesnaught are immune to quite a few projectile attacks. Since you specialize in distanced attacking… I would focus on beam-like moves, such as Flamethrower, or field-of-influence moves, like Psychic.”

“Got it,” Amia said.

“Ahh, so you are the ones who have defeated Azu!” Chesnaught said. “I am Verd, the second strongest of Guardian Manny’s summoned spirits! Give me your third strongest fighter!”

“Th-that would be me,” Amia said. The blue Gardevoir waved sheepishly and stepped into the arena. She waved her hand, creating three bright, blue flames above her.

“Ha! Then if you are the third strongest, I accept your challenge! Do not think thi—!”

One of the flames with Amia turned into a jet of fire that went straight for Verd. He yelped and rolled out of the way.

“W-wait! Wait!”

“H-huh?” Amia asked; it looked like she was about to launch a second one.

“Y-you didn’t let me finish my speech! I need to psyche myself up!”

“Psyche… yourself up?” Amia said.

“I—I need a second. Give me a second! There’s a _process_ to this!”

Amia crossed her arms confusedly and looked back at Anam, James, and Rhys. The Goodra shrugged. The Decidueye and Lucario merely looked down.

“Okay. Take… take the time you need, dear,” Amia said.

“Thank you.” Verd got into his pose again, stomping on the ground, shouting at Amia. “Do not think this battle will be easy! I shall give you a true challenge to see if you are worthy to face Guardian Manny! Now… let the battle begin! Hrrraaaaaaaa!” Verd ran at Amia with as much speed as his legs allowed, reaching Amia in only three seconds.

For the first two and a half of them, Amia didn’t move. She seemed unsure if the battle had started or not. Then, at the last half-second, she deftly moved to the right, sidestepping the initial tackle. He couldn’t redirect in time. He had a lot of momentum, but no agility to redirect. Still, Amia recognized the strength behind his attacks. Just one could do serious damage. She’d have to finish quickly.

Verd ran toward Amia for a second time, winding his fist back. Still, he was a Fighting Type. That wouldn’t do as much damage against her. His Grass Type was likely hidden away, similar to Azu. Amia’s embers blasted out another blue-hot Flamethrower. Verd punched through it, forcing Amia to dodge again.

“Fight me head on, Gardevoir!” Verd said. “Do not think that such tricks will be effective against Manny!”

“Oh, dear, I’m not fighting Manny,” Amia said. “And this is working quite well against you!”

“Nnngh! Don’t think you have the advantage!” Verd shouted. He pushed his hands together and separated them with a foot-long gap in the middle. An orb of his very fighting spirit formed, brimming with life and power. Verd launched the Focus Blast straight at Amia. She countered with a Flamethrower again, rupturing the ball of energy. It exploded in a blinding flash, sending a shockwave that knocked Amia back a few feet, but the flames persisted. Verd shouted in surprise—but that was all. Amia’s fire was simply too powerful and Verd was just another ember by the time the flames settled.

“…That was it?” Anam said.

“I suppose Verd was only slightly stronger than Azu, then,” James said.

“Or they drew straws,” Amia added, dusting off her dress. “That wasn’t so bad! I haven’t had a fight in quite a while! Did I do okay?”

“I think you did great!” Anam said, pumping a gooey fist in the air.

James nodded, deciding not to point out the flaws. “You did well for not fighting in so long. Quite well.”

“We should advance,” Rhys said. “Anam, are you ready for your fight?”

“Yep!”

They advanced, and the upward curve through the spiral was getting even sharper. It felt like the inside of the spire was roughly two or three stone’s throws in diameter. The dim glow met them again—red, now—and this time, they saw an Infernape waiting for them at the center of the penultimate arena.

“I,” the Infernape greeted, “am Roh, the strongest of Guardian Manny’s Fighting Spirits! Give me your second strongest fighter to face me in a battle of might and honor!”

Anam giggled and wobbled forward. “That’s me!” he said.

“You, Goodra… shall be my opponent. Do you accept this fight, and not stop until either of us falls?”

“I accept!” Anam said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together. They made wet, slapping noises.

Roh seemed slightly unnerved. “And… you are certainly the second strongest?” he said. Despite his hesitance, his voice was still loud.

“Yes! Well, Rhys and I might be around the same strength, maybe… but Rhys would be good against Manny, don’t you think?”

“The Lucario?” asked Roh. “Yes. Manny would appreciate that. Then, very well!” The Infernape went into his fighting stance, holding his two fists in front. “Do not expect me to go easy on you! Let the battle begin!”

Roh moved perhaps a single inch out of his starting position. Anam opened his mouth and fired an intense, blue blast of dragon might from the back of his throat. Roh had no time to dodge. It went straight through his chest, leaving a hole behind. Roh stared in surprise, looking down at the spiritual embers that poured from him. He didn’t have the words to react. Then, delayed, he said, “I—” His body burst into embers, returning to the Guardian above.

Anam giggled, clapping his hands again. “That was fun!” he said. “He’s so cheerful! I like Manny’s spirits. They seem really fun to talk to!”

“G-goodness, Anam…” Amia said.

“So, are we gonna go to see Manny, now?” Anam asked.

“I—I suppose so!” the Gardevoir replied. “Um… Anam, did you tap into your Mystic power for that attack?”

“I might have,” Anam said, rubbing his ill-defined chin. “After a while, your Mystic power just naturally enhances your attacks.”

“O-oh, right,” Amia nodded. “Of course. Um… let’s go. Rhys?”

“I am prepared.”

They crossed the arena and ascended through the spire. The turns got even sharper, and a strange smell filled the air. The further up they got, the more it became… foul. Rotten. An ominous air, along with that foul stench, filled the atmosphere with every step they took. Cautious, the group walked a bit closer together, and a bit more slowly. Every so often, Amia bumped into Rhys from behind. “S-sorry,” she mumbled.

“What’s that smell?” Anam whined, covering his nose.

Amia nodded. “It’s quite… strong.”

James had his eyes closed, walking with them. “…It’s the smell of decay,” he said. “The decay of… bodies.”

“B-bodies?”

“Yes. I am familiar with this smell. It is death.”

Around the corner, Amia stumbled over something. “Oops—what was…?” She brought her flame closer and screamed. She scrambled back and bumped into something else, screaming again. Anam screamed with her. Rhys and James tried to calm them down. Rhys held Anam steady, getting goo all over him; James tried to get near Amia, but his feathers got scorched in the process.

It was the fallen body of a slain Pokémon. There didn’t appear to be any major wounds on it, but it was lying there for quite some time—at least a day. “O-oh, Arceus…!” Amia said.

“We must advance,” James said.

“Did—did Manny do this…?” Amia couldn’t look for long. She walked, looking straight; she only gave flashing glances below her to avoid stepping on anything else. Anam was covering his eyes, guided by James and Rhys; the Goodra was shaking.

“It’s okay, Anam,” James said. “Relax. It’s just a body…”

Anam whimpered. The feelers on his head twitched. “D-d’you hear that?” he asked.

“A-a ghost?” Amia asked.

“H-huh? No, not a ghost,” Anam said.

They stopped walking to listen.

“Hah! Yah! Heh… that all yeh got?!” It was coming from ahead and above.

“…Isn’t that Gahi’s accent?” Amia said.

An aura explosion blasted the wall. Amia yelped and jumped away, slamming into Anam. “O—oops, sorry, dear!” She struggled to break loose of his gooey belly.

“What was it?” Anam asked, clutching Amia from behind in fear.

“J-just an Aura Sphere!” Amia said, unable to move out of Anam’s grip. “Rhys?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I’m beginning to understand why they wanted me to fight Manny.”

After only a few more steps, they saw it—another Lucario, a bit taller than Rhys, and a significantly more muscular, rather than Rhys’ lean build. And the other Pokémon—a fierce one, Garchomp—but, more importantly, it was like all the other mutant, clean auras. Something was different. She used her arms as legs, and those arms were larger than a normal Garchomp’s. It looked like it was built for quadrupedal movement. She growled and rushed at Manny, and the Lucario laughed and dodged every strike. Fallen Pokémon littered the ground—the Garchomp was the last one standing, aside from the Mystic she was fighting. Was he fighting the entire time, ever since Owen had arrived?

“Watch out!” Amia shouted.

“I got it, I got it!” Manny said, firing another Aura Sphere at the Garchomp.

She screeched and tried to dodge—but it was impossible to avoid the Sphere. She shouted and slammed against the wall, collapsing.

Amia held her hands to her mouth. “Is… is she…?”

The Garchomp abruptly roared and attempted another Dragon Rush toward the Fighting Guardian. In an instant, he countered with another Aura Sphere. Amia recognized those movements of that Pokémon. The desperate lunge, that primal, single-minded need to fight to the very end, against even one’s own body’s physical limits—that Garchomp wasn’t going to quit, no matter what. She looked at the bodies in the arena, and then at the last one standing.

The Garchomp slowly stood up. She growled, wobbling closer to Manny.

“P-please… stop,” Amia said.

Fight and fight and fight—but instead of Azu, who lost once Owen evolved—and lost quite badly, in fact—Manny wasn’t even tired. He was on a completely different level than this Garchomp.

The mutant growled, glaring at Manny.

“Just… stay down…” Amia said.

The Garchomp lunged.

Amia thought, for just a moment, that the Garchomp had transformed. Like it had wings and a flaming tail. Running straight at Manny, straight toward his death, driven by thoughts that were tied to his original purpose.

“P-PLEASE, STOP!”

Manny fired directly at the Pokémon’s head.


	21. Synthetic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elite team chats with Manny about their intertwined histories with the strange Pokemon they've been fighting; Owen broods in the river of lava about his long, blurry past.

Amia trembled. She stared at the Garchomp, who was barely breathing on the ground and then at the Lucario still standing. The Aura Sphere had sent the artificial Pokémon flying backward, yet miraculously it was durable enough to remain in one piece. Amia didn’t know what to think about the strange mixture of fear and relief she felt when realizing that the Charizard—no, the Garchomp was still breathing.

“Guardian Manny,” said Rhys. “I think that is enough.”

“Eh?” The Lucario looked up. “Oh, well ain’t that somethin’. Yer aura. Ain’t you Rhys?”

“…I am, but I do not know how you know that. Did Star tell you?”

“Nah,” Manny said. “Well, yeah, heh. But I knew ‘bout yeh befer that. Long time ago, real long time ago, ran across yer student. Good kid. Real firework, got a blazin’ heart.”

“E-excuse me?” Amia said. “You know about Owen?”

Manny got out of his battle stance; he put most of his weight on his left leg, swaying a few inches to the left and right. “Baah, what was his name, eh… Gehi… Gaho… Gahi! Yeah, that was it, heh, Gahi. He kinda was real impressionable, I think. Liked m’ accent, tried ter emulate it, I figure. He still got that?”

“Wh—you… you’re the reason why Gahi talks like that?” Amia said. “…Where is that accent from, anyway?”

Manny shrugged. “Always had it,” he said. “That’s how accents work, I figure. Been alive too long ter remember where I got it. Maybe it’s some ancient accent that’s only lastin’ with me an’ him. Survivors o’ th’ ancient dialect.”

“Dialect, hm,” Rhys said. “Well, I regretfully inform you that he still has that manner of speaking, even if he doesn’t remember he got it from you. And thankfully it is not as thick as yours.” Rhys murmured the last part only to himself.

“Oy, what, he’s still alive?” Manny said. “Well ain’t that somethin’! He became a Guardian too, eh?”

“N-no, he didn’t,” Rhys said. “Actually… Owen did.”

Amia recognized the tension in both Rhys’ stance and his tone. She tried not to point it out, and instead listened for what Manny had to say.

“Owen?” Manny said. “Th’ crazy-lookin’ Charizard with th’ funny techniques? Gahi told me all about’m. Only met yer Flygon student; he told me ‘bout all th’ rest.”

Rhys stared at the ground. “Yes,” he said. “That Owen.”

“Hah! Well, Star didn’t go an’ tell me that! Should talk ter her more often! Which Type he got?”

“The Grass Orb,” Rhys said, but then eyed the Garchomp on the ground. Her leg twitched to life, barely. “Manny… you didn’t have to kill them,” he said.

“Yeah, I did,” Manny said.

“N-no,” Amia said. “You really didn’t. You could have easily just scared them off!”

“They ain’t got fear,” Manny said. “Ain’t capable of it. They’re in a ‘battle mode’ an’ there ain’t no stoppin’um.”

The Garchomp growled groggily. Manny eyed her carefully, yet the left side of his face twisted into a challenging smirk.

“But,” Amia said, “but couldn’t you just tire them out?”

“Don’t tire,” Manny said, shrugging. “If I didn’t kill’m, they woulda done it ter th’mselves from overexertion. If they ain’t fightin’, then they ain’t awake. Never woulda ended. Been through this befer.”

“Y-you have?” Rhys asked. “You’ve been attacked by these mutant Pokémon before?”

“Heh, so that’s what yeh call ‘em?” Manny said. “Call it like it is, ol’ timer. These’re artificial Pokémon. Synthetic.” Manny rubbed two claws together. “I call ‘em Mod Pokémon—short fer modified. ‘Cause that’s what they are, y’know. Modified.” He stared down at the Garchomp. For a moment, his eyes looked serious, defying everything else about his demeanor. “All the way down ter th’ very core. I figure even their souls are artificial.”

“You will _not_ say such things,” Rhys said venomously.

The Garchomp twitched slightly and opened her mouth, about to fire a plume of blue fire, but Manny saw it coming. He leisurely pointed his paw her way and shot one final Aura Sphere at it, but this one enveloped her body. She screeched and struggled against the strange field, flailing her arms and legs, thrashing against the air. But then her movements slowed down like the very life was being drained from her. And then, out of her mouth, came a little, golden light, surrounded by a blue ember—and the Garchomp was dead. The ember moved to Manny’s paw and vanished inside. The Garchomp collapsed to the ground, blending in with the rest of the corpses that lacked fatal wounds.

Amia nearly fainted, but she was held up by Anam. The shock of seeing Manny _extract_ the mutant’s very essence stunned Anam into silence.

“Manny…” Rhys said lowly, his own aura flaring at his paws.

“What?” Manny said. “I’m doin’um a favor.” He fired from his paw an aura; it splashed on the ground and condensed into a solid form again. A Garchomp—the very same one, with the very same mutations. She roared; the whole cave shook, and then she ran at him again, claws kicking up rocks. Manny clenched his paw, and she disintegrated into an ember, returning to her host once more. “See?” he said. “Alive ’n’ well.”

“Th-that’s hardly…!” Amia said.

“They live on in th’ Orb. They can fight fer as long as they want. Th’ old timers from th’ last attack a couple decades ago? Found a way ter calm ‘em down, so now they fight fer me. Yeh met ‘em, didn’t yeh?” he said. “Azu, Verd, Roh… yeah. Those three’re my best from back then. Trained by an old friend that’s too strong fer me ter summon. I gave ‘em new bodies, helped repair their heads.” He tapped a claw against his skull. “Fixed th’ instincts that their master gave ‘em. I figured out how ter give ‘em a proper free will. Too bad they forgot where they came from. Was curious, but I guess that’s a side-effect.”

“I… I see,” Rhys said. He looked down. “…Are they… sapient? Can they speak? Beyond Azu and your best…”

“Eh. They’re gettin’ there,” Manny said. “But hey, way better’n I first met’m.” The Lucario paused for quite some time as if thinking about something. Meanwhile, in the silence, Amia tried to regain her composure; James was inspecting some of the fallen bodies, noticing that most of them didn’t have any severe wounds on them. Anam made sure Amia didn’t collapse again. Rhys was deep in some other part of his mind.

“So,” Manny said. “Yer takin’ care o’ Gahi an’ the other ones? How’re they still alive? Figure Mods also age. What’s keepin’ ‘em from passin’ through the aura sea, eh?”

“They… have been reverted to past selves, so to speak,” Rhys said. “And… Mod Pokémon, as you call them, do not age. They were not built to age and degrade.”

“An’ jus’ who built these guys? Must’ve been some real genius ter come up with that. They’re givin’ me some theories, but their past memories’re real blurry. Somethin’ about bein’ in that battle mode fuzzes it up.”

“Genius, huh?” Amia said. “Well, it was a Hunter, right, Rhys? It… i-it couldn’t have been N-Nevren, right…?”

Rhys sighed. “I thought that without Nevren, the other Hunters wouldn’t have been able to continue the project,” he said. “Clearly, I was wrong. Nevren is going to be very upset about this.”

“I’ve never seen Nevren be upset,” Anam mumbled quietly.

“I have,” Rhys mumbled. “This is precisely the thing that will put him in a mood. He assured himself that the stray mutants we’ve been finding are all there are. Clearly, that is not the case.” Rhys scanned the spire’s chamber. “Eon is making an entire army.”

“Heh,” Manny shook his head, tapping the spikes of his paws together to get their attention. “Well, hey, th’ whole reason yeh came… Yer here fer gettin’ me ter join yeh? That’s what m’ spirits told me. But y’know what that means.” Manny nodded.

“W-wait! Didn’t you already get in a bunch of fighting? Y-you must be tired,” Amia said. “Why don’t you just come with us and rest, and _then_ maybe we’ll do a battle?”

“Maybe? Heh, that ain’t gonna fly,” Manny said, wagging a claw at the blue Gardevoir. “Now er later, yer gonna fight me here an’ nowhere else.”

“Are you not tired?” Rhys asked.

“Feh, I’ll live,” Manny said. “A li’l break an’ I’ll be in top shape, if yeh wanna fight with honor.”

“I suppose that _would_ be my preference,” Rhys said, carefully eying the bodies scattered around them. “What will we do with these?”

“Was gonna haul ‘em out an’ bury ‘em befer they stink up the place, I guess,” Manny said. “Gonna take a while, but with some help, maybe it’ll only take three trips, heh.”

“Hmm…” Rhys said.

“Oh! I bet it would be easier if, um,” Anam said, “we, um, we set a Waypoint here? Then we can warp from here to Kilo Village easily…”

“And they would see us hauling carcasses of Mods,” said Rhys. “We should do this the manual way.”

Manny sighed and hauled the Garchomp’s body over his shoulder first. “Guess we better get goin’, eh?” He summoned multiple spirits; they all burst from his free paw and solidified, grabbing a body or two—whatever their respective sizes could handle—and followed Manny. Amia helped as well. Though a bit too dainty to carry one on her own, Alex was able to help once summoned, and she used a portion of her Mystic powers to levitate another, with effort. Anam did the same, levitating three. Rhys manually carried another. James vanished to give Anam more power.

<><><> 

The lava stung a bit, but after a while, Owen’s body grew used to the hot, dense fluid.

This part of the cave was always glowing orange; the ceiling was high above him, flickering slowly from the ocean of molten rock. The lava flowed gently, and it would eventually reach a point where it became solid, and Owen would no longer be able to follow the current. However, that was a long time away; this particular river was lazy enough to last him a small portion of the day. Normally a lava’s flow was tumultuous and a bit of a danger to stay in, but the Mystic flow of Hot Spot was much easier on his scales.

It gave him time to think. Decompress. Be alone with his thoughts. As much as he didn’t like what those thoughts were, he had to be with them. It was better than not thinking at all, becoming some mindless beast.

Klent… Did he really kill him? He didn’t remember it, but Klent had no reason to lie. Owen didn’t sense any sort of dishonesty in what Klent was saying. Star didn’t object to it, either. And the spirits within him had gone silent—not that he wanted to ask them. He was afraid that there was even more that Klent didn’t tell him. How did he kill him? Who did he kill first? Did the daughter die first? Who is his daughter? How horrible was…?

Owen shook his head and rolled over. Any tears he made boiled into steam before they had a chance to hit the lava.

_Owen?_ Someone called. _Owen, are you there…?_

Owen didn’t want to reply. But, without thinking about it, he did. _Yeah, I’m here._ He recognized the voice as Star’s. She must have returned to the spirit world just to talk to him. He could easily block her again… but he was starting to hate his thoughts in silence. He had to drown it out. Star was a great distraction.

_Everyone’s worried. They know you’re going to be fine out in the river, but… they’re worried about how you’re feeling. Don’t you want to go back?_

_River_ _doesn’t run forever,_ Owen said, rolling onto his back again. _I’ll go back when I reach the end._

_That’s a while from now,_ Star said.

Silence. Owen scooped up a bit of the lava and tossed it behind him. The disturbance caused the lava to bubble and splatter, and then it settled back like the impact hadn’t even happened. An insignificant little outburst in the hot, calm flow.

_Owen,_ Star said softly. _Would you like to meditate?_

Owen was starting to feel annoyed. He knew that she just wanted him to talk to her more, talk about his problems, how he felt. Star was playing therapist; she was trying to lift his spirits. She was just trying to help… The Charmander’s eyes, glaring at the ceiling, softened. _Okay,_ he said.

He steadied his breathing. He shut his eyes and emptied his mind. There was a lot to empty out; even when he was calm, it was never truly without thought. It was even harder this time. Some of it was fear. If he stopped thinking, would he start seeing his past again? He could feel it prodding at the psychic blocks Star had put on his mind. Just one slip, and…

_I want you to meditate… inward again,_ Star said. _As deep as you can go, until… until you feel like you’ll pass out. You can go that far, as a Mystic. And when you do, you’ll wake up in the Orb’s realm again—I’ll be waiting for you there, alright?_

_You want me… to go into the Grass Orb again?_ Owen said. _I don’t think I want them to see me right now…_

_You won’t have to face them, Owen,_ Star said. _It’s just for me. They’ll leave you alone if you want._

_I…_ Owen opened his eyes, breaking the trance. _I’m not ready for that._

More silence. Owen knew that Star was still thinking of what to say. He could _feel_ her presence. He hated it. She wasn’t going to go away until he felt better. Couldn’t he just spend a bit of time brooding? All he wanted was some _peace_. If the lava swallowed him up forever, so be it…

_Owen, you know I can read minds…_ Star said. _Thanks for not blocking me, at least. I know you’re in a lot of—_

_Go away!_ Owen finally snapped. _Just… just let me think. I… I thought I could handle all this, but I can’t. Just take it all away again…. Just let me forget…_

_I can’t do that anymore, Owen,_ Star said softly. _Now that you’re Mystic… I just can’t take those memories away. The seal won’t work anymore. Like gluing paper on a wet bulletin board… It just won’t stick, Owen._

_Then…_ Owen said, _then just take it away! Take away my power! I don’t want it anymore. I just… I just want to…!_

Owen slammed his fist against the lava, making little splashes. The molten rock popped and splattered over him, hardening into little pebbles. They fell off of his scales, into the lava, and become a part of the river once more.

_Owen, you… you don’t mean that,_ Star said. _Think of all the people you’d leave behind. Your parents… Rhys… the other late-evolvers… What about Zena, and the other Guardians?_

_Just shut up…_ Owen said. His heart skipped a beat from guilt. He could block her at any time, but at the same time, he couldn’t. He was already regretting being alone. His thoughts haunted him. He needed Star to keep him distracted.

It was another long silence. Owen sniffled a few times, rubbing his eyes. If he could just go back and stop all of this from happening, he’d do it in an instant. Klent didn’t deserve to die. And his daughter…

Owen took a deep breath and held it. The hot air cooled him down. He breathed out. _I… I know you’re right,_ he said. He wanted to say he was sorry, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. _I just… I don’t want to hear it right now. I know I can’t just…_

_I know,_ Star said softly. _I know it’s hard_. _And it’s not fair. None of this is fair… none of it, for any of you. I’m sorry, Owen…_

_Don’t… don’t say that,_ Owen said.

More silence. Owen sat up; his legs barely dipped in the lava like this. It was simply too dense to allow his tiny body to sink. The Charmander finally sighed, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t want to talk aloud. He knew he’d break down if he did. Thoughts were easier.

_How did I do it?_ Owen said. _How did they die?_

_It was… it was fast,_ Star said. _In a way. The… time between the first hit and the finishing blow was… very close together. It’s just, before that, it was a lot of… chasing, and stuff._

Owen knew that Star’s temporary seal was still working, and he was thankful for that. He felt memories pressing against that seal. If he pushed too hard, they might come flooding back… But he still had to know.

_Who died first?_ Owen said.

_Klent,_ Star said. _He stayed back so Amelia could run. But she only ran away for a few steps. She turned around and… saw you do it. Really fast, Owen. It was really fast…_

Owen shivered, and he couldn’t stop. Even with all the heat around him, there was an icy void in his core. Like a spike was being plunged into his chest. But if he stopped now, it would never go away. He had to keep going. The spike had to go deeper.

_What did I do to him?_ Owen said.

_Air Slash to get him on the ground… and then a Flamethrower to finish it off,_ Star said. _You were so strong compared to him that… he was unconscious near the beginning. He didn’t… suffer all that much._

_And his daughter? What happened to…? Did she run?_

_No,_ Star said. _She saw you kill him, and… she just stood there. She didn’t run or fight. Just… stood there. And, Owen, you… were in a state of mind where your_ only _action was to fight. So, once Klent was down, you went right for her… Same moves. Air Slash, Flamethrower, and she died from it._

Owen noticed that Star left out a detail. The spike twisted and twisted. _And how long did that take?_ He said.

_It was… still quick,_ Star said.

There it was. That was as deep as the wound was going to get. Owen wanted to vomit. But the pit in his stomach was too heavy to heave out. _Does it still hurt her? Is she still…?_

_She’s… fine,_ Star said. _I helped her out. Klent and I did. She’s great, a really strong Pokémon. But… she isn’t ready to see you yet. That’s all._

_N-no, I get that,_ Owen said. _I get that._

Owen let the lava’s flow fill the air again. He killed Amelia painfully. So painfully that even now, she couldn’t bear to see him the way Klent did. He killed his daughter, and he still took the time to train him. How could he _possibly_ deserve that? He didn’t. He _didn’t_. But that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. The icy pit was subsiding, even if the thoughts didn’t. He felt he had it in him to ask another question.

_Star…_ Owen said. _How old am I?_

_You’re pretty old, Owen,_ Star said. _But since you’re repeating the same sorts of memories over and over, you aren’t as old, too. Mentally speaking, y’know? And since most of those memories are still all scrambled… I guess you are a kid, in a way, huh?_

The pang of irritation Owen felt was a relief compared to everything else. _I’m starting to feel really old…_

_Yeah, getting them back will do that to you,_ Star said.

_What’s my actual age?_ Owen asked.

_Ehh… you, uh… well… probably around three, four hundred years?_

_Th-that long?!_ Owen audibly gasped, but kept it together, closing his eyes again. _Why didn’t I just shrivel up and die yet?_

_Synthetic Pokémon like you were made to not… do that,_ Star said. _You’re… a genetic wonder, Owen, and it was Nevren and Rhys’ work that made that happen, you know._

_Nevren and Rhys…_ Owen said. _They made Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi, too, huh?_

_Yeah,_ Star said.

For some reason, Owen got the impression she was nodding, like she was talking right in front of him. The pit in his stomach, while still present, was starting to fade. His breathing was returning to a slow rhythm.

_You guys were meant to be the perfect team. Four in a set,_ she said. _To be honest… you guys are as close to perfect as I’ve ever seen, but…_

_But, what?_ Owen said. He thought briefly about the team name that the trio had come up with before he joined them. Team Alloy. A team that could work together to combine their strengths to eliminate their weaknesses. Just like a real alloy, he supposed. Were they designed to be that way? Was all of this… predetermined? _What do you mean,_ Owen asked again, _that we were_ meant _to be the perfect team? What went wrong?_

_I… don’t think you should know yet,_ she said. _I can already feel those memory blocks slipping just mentioning it. Can’t you?_

He could, and Owen trusted her judgment. The Charmander nodded and stared ahead at the lava. The wall was coming up; soon, he wouldn’t be able to advance in the river. He sighed and got up, carefully waddling his way across the lava to get to solid ground. _When should I remember everything?_ Owen asked.

_That block I put will slow it down so you can handle it,_ Star said, _And I put some on the other three proactively, too. So, when their memories start coming back, it’ll be a little easier than that flood you got._

_Good,_ Owen said. _I guess I’ll… just wait and talk to you when they start coming back again._ He paused, rubbing his little claws together. _Star? If I was created by Mystic power, doesn’t that make me Mystic, too, all this time?_

_Eh?_

_I was… created. Doesn’t that mean I’m Mystic? How come you can’t block my memories_ now _compared to before?_

_Oh, no,_ Star said. _You weren’t Mystic. You were created artificially. Sure, some Mystic stuff contributed, but_ you _were never Mystic. It was… more sciencey stuff for you guys. You can’t just_ make life _that easily, even for powerful Mystics._

_Thanks, Star, for… dealing with me,_ he said.

_It’s alright. Owen, I think… I think I owe you an apology, too. And I want to congratulate you for handling this as well as you did._

_This counts as well?_

_It does, Owen. Because even after all this… I still trust you with this power. Because the whole reason you’re behaving this way in the first place is because you hate what you used to be. And with your Mystic power, and with Rhys’ help, and everyone else behind you—you can conquer it! Okay? Are you hearing me?_

_Yeah. I get that,_ Owen couldn’t hide his smile. He _did_ have a lot of people rooting for him. And sure, he disappointed them from time to time, but… he felt different, now. His memories were returning. He wasn’t some kid anymore. He had an inkling of what he used to be like. Too bad it wasn’t very different from now. He wondered if he was just young at heart. But Anam was, too. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Owen continued, _And I still haven’t forgotten about what I can do with this power, either. I mean—look at Anam! I bet he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far in stabilizing the whole world without the help of his Ghost Orb. He founded the Thousand Heart Association. Just think what we can do with even_ more _Orbs!_

_That’s the spirit,_ Star said. _See, that’s why I want you guys to gather all this up. You all can make a good world, Owen. Make it all better…_

_Huh?_

_Oh, sorry. Just rambling. Godly things. Ask Zena about it…_

Owen looked ahead. The cave wall was approaching; he’d have to get out of the lava soon. _Thanks again, Star,_ Owen said. _I think I feel better about this power. I still have a lot of questions, but… you know, I’m going to try to answer the ones I have now, first._

Star laughed. _Go back to the others—they won’t bother you. They just want to know you’re alright._

Owen nodded. The sealed mutant followed the path back to the hidden village. He still felt heavy, like he was sinking into the ground… but at least he knew the others would hold him up.


	22. Blade and Fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elite team pay their respects to the fallen, and then Rhys tries to recruit Manny into the fold the only way the Fighting Mystic would agree to: a battle.

Large mounds of dirt moved on their own, floating in the air. Little particles fell to the ground, collecting near the bottom of this forcefield. The evening sun cast long shadows to the trees that surrounded the spire, as well as the mounds of dirt covering the bodies of the mutants. The longest shadow seemed to be from Rhys, staring at the last pit. Unceremonious, thanks to Manny’s careless speed.

“That’ll be enough,” Manny said. “Dunno why you wan’ed ter make individual graves fer ‘em.”

Rhys shook his head. “It was necessary,” he said.

“You could have burned ‘em,” Manny said, looking at Amia.

“O-oh, I wouldn’t…” the Fire Guardian shook her head. “I don’t think that’s… my choice to make.”

“They deserved marked graves,” Rhys said.

“Y’know they’re all still _here_ , right?” Manny said, holding his paw up. A few embers spun furiously around his claws.

“Their lives are still over,” Rhys said. “Just because they are still _with us_ does not mean that a number of doors have closed for them.”

“Not like they had all that many, heh,” Manny said.

“Do not trivialize their lives,” Rhys said, keeping calm. “They had feelings and dreams, just like the rest of us.”

“Yeah, a dream ter fight,” Manny said. “Ain’t got much more than that ‘til y’ fix’m. They’re broken.”

Rhys jerked his head at Manny, eyes firm with light. The other Lucario smirked and held his two paws up as if he intended to avoid an argument he clearly started. For just a moment, Rhys felt his composure wane. Manny showed no respect for the Mods that he controlled. Did he even understand the gravity of the potential that he stole away from them by ending their lives? Or… was it truly not worth it? How much did Manny know about these creatures?

“Hey, c’mon,” he said. “I should know more’n anyone, these guys’re built ter fight an’ nothin’ else. They’re _stuck_ that way, down ter th’ core. Seems like someone made’m that way. Berserk. They’ll fight ‘til they drop. If they weren’t spirits, they’d all be dead anyway.”

“You can turn them back,” Rhys said. “There’s—there’s a _key_ to it if you radiate the proper aura signature. It’s… merely different than the one I know,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?” he said, smirking. “Yeah, yeah, that’s th’ story, ain’t it? Yeh helped _design_ these things. Gahi an’ the rest o’ their lot. They were the originals….”

Amia bit her lower lip and glanced at Anam and James. James was keeping his head down toward the graves in observance; Anam was nibbling nervously on his slimy fingers, gobs of purple slime flowing off of his thighs and onto the ground.

“Rhys…?” Anam said softly. “Does that mean these ones are… even stronger than Owen’s set?”

“Unlikely,” Rhys said. “Even if they are, they are untrained. If we can keep Team Alloy controlled, we still have a chance at outpacing them.”

“Heheh… now yeh got me curious,” Manny said. “Pretty confident in those early models, I take it. Well, if yer their teacher, then yer pretty strong, too.”

“You speak like the other Pokémon you house are lower creatures, yet all you want is a fight, too,” Rhys said, countering with his own smirk.

“Oy, who said I thought they were inferior, eh?” Manny said.

Rhys’ ear twitched irritably. If he didn’t think he was superior, then what was the issue with his attitude?

“They’re fightin’ machines, so they’re perfect fer my whole gimmick! Hah! Jus’ sayin’ it’s a fact that they ain’t set fer living normal lives unless yeh, what was it? Turn ‘em off? Yeah. Ain’t easy without that, an’ I dunno that. So, quit barkin’ at me.”

Indeed, the graves were all filled. Rhys finished placing stones at the top of each one. He looked at Manny, sizing him up, and then snorted. “So, you truly won’t join us without a fight?” Perhaps Manny felt he was the Mods’ teacher, just as he was to Owen and his team. In that sense… perhaps they were more alike than he’d allow himself to admit.

“It’s in my blood, my mind, my soul, Hunter,” Manny said, tapping his claw against the spike on his chest. “You ain’t worth it if I can’t be beaten by yeh. Or at _leas’_ put up enough o’ a fight ter get a draw er a stalemate, eh? As th’ strongest.”

“Technically, I am not,” Rhys said. “Anam would be the strongest, should he unleash his power to its fullest extent. But it was recommended that I fight you… likely due to my species.”

“Heh, yer coordinators got good taste.” The Fighting Guardian went into a battle stance, one leg forward, one leg back, both arms glowing with aural fire in front of him.

Anam jumped and wobbled to the sidelines with James and Amia. “G-go, Rhys! Beat him!” he said.

“Of course,” Rhys said, mirroring Manny’s battle stance. He looked at the Lucario and shifted awkwardly. This wasn’t a stance he was familiar with; Manny’s guard was completely open. Was it some sort of ruse? Was he taunting him to get up close? The way Manny’s lean muscles tensed against his oddly thin fur, his stance to run straight into battle… Manny was a fighter up close. Rhys could use that to his advantage. He shifted his stance to something more evasive, legs ready to jump back with no delay.

“Oh? Yer gonna go fer that, eh?” Manny said.

Rhys didn’t reply. He was waiting for Manny to make the first move.

Manny stayed still but then vanished from view. Rhys vanished at the very same time. All that they left behind was a small plume of dust where their feet had once been planted.

Anam squeaked and tried to figure out where they went.

James merely closed his eyes. “They’re taunting each other,” the Decidueye said.

“T-taunting?” Amia asked.

They appeared in the middle of the makeshift arena, clashing at each other at high speeds. The impact created a shockwave that blew up even more dirt from all sides; Rhys felt the recently departed spirits within Manny flare up with aggression and fulfillment, entertained by the battle. Rhys felt a bit of their soul in Manny’s eyes. They were watching.

“Heh… so yeh know that move, eh?” he said.

“As do you,” Rhys grunted.

Their fists had hit one another in the same spot, near the base of their ribs. Yet, both of them had tensed enough to resist the blow’s effects.

They jumped away from one another and launched two blue spheres of aura energy in complete sync—the two collided and exploded, sending the two Lucario back even further in the resulting, blue blast. Aura embers swirled and dissipated.

“Peh—” Manny skidded to a stop.

“Ngh—” Rhys stumbled but steadied himself.

“Not bad,” Manny said. “But I figure that’s where our techniques’re gonna stop bein’ th’ same.”

“Oh?” Rhys said. He moved his paws forward, metallic light energy swirling between them.

Anam tilted his head, puzzled. Why would he use such an ineffective attack against Manny?

Manny, meanwhile, rushed toward Rhys at blinding speeds again.

“What—” Rhys had no time to react; he was punched in the gut, but he launched his Flash Cannon at the same time, point-blank. Manny jerked his head sideways and punched Rhys just below the spike on his chest. The blazing light singed the fur on his right cheek, but nothing else.

They both jumped away again, kicked off of the ground, and rushed toward each other again. Rhys formed another ball of steely light in his paws. Manny weaved out of the way and crouched down, flipping his body for a kick in the stomach. Rhys grunted and fired his Flash Cannon on the ground, redirecting himself and his momentum just enough to dodge the kick. Manny’s foot grazed his fur. Rhys immediately formed another Flash Cannon in his paws, aiming it right at Manny’s face again. This time, he didn’t miss, and Manny had to jump back.

“Hah!” Manny said. The fur on his face was singed slightly, but he was ignoring it, or perhaps didn’t notice it. “Bullet Punch versus Flash Cannon! Guess yer a distant attacker! So, what’re you doin’ luggin’ around Extreme Speed?”

“In case I can’t fight from a distance, I suppose,” Rhys growled, pulling away. “I can outpace almost anybody with it. Why would _you_ have Aura Sphere?”

“Aaah, c’mon, what’s a Lucario without Aura Sphere?” Manny said. “Besides, hard ter miss with that one, heh, since it zeroes in on th’ enemy. Heheh… So… what’s yer next technique?” he asked. “Gimme somethin’ good. Yer holdin’ back. I feel it. Who uses Flash Cannon on a Lucario?”

Rhys smirked slightly. “I suppose it was quite obvious. As it was for you, Manny. Bullet Punch? Really?”

James’ feathers abruptly puffed out. “Are we really doing this right now?” he said, raising his wings in exasperation. “Truly, you were toying with one another?! Rhys, I thought better of you.”

Rhys flinched. Perhaps he got carried away. Manny’s fighting spirit was infectious, even for him. And he could _feel_ the many spirits inside of the opposing Lucario roaring for a good fight. He felt a small bit of Team Alloy in that. He had to entertain them, at least in some small way. Tiny joys to satiate their sad lives. Or, that was what Rhys told himself. He worried that perhaps Owen and his ilk were rubbing off on him after all…

“I wasn’t going to do the dishonorable move and fight him at my best when he’s simply grappling,” Rhys said, figuring that was a noble enough excuse.

“Hah, that’s th’ spirit,” Manny said, holding out his paw. “Then let’s shake on it! We’ll go all-out, an’ see who wins, eh?”

Rhys hesitated. “I… cannot fight at my best,” he said. “I made a Promise to not attempt to kill another Guardian. A Divine one.”

“Well, ain’t you confident,” Manny said. “So sure you’ll beat me. Aah, so what’ll happen if yeh try?” he asked. “If y’come close, will yer power get taken away?”

“Not necessarily,” said Rhys. “The last time this happened, before I launched my final strike, my paw glowed with divine power leaving me—as if it was a threat that proceeding would revoke my status as a Hunter, or at least the power that came with it.”

“Well, how ‘bout this, then,” Manny said. “Yer paw glows, that counts as a win. Sound fair teh you?”

“Hmm… Very well,” Rhys said.

“Then let’s go all out,” Manny said, stomping his foot on the ground.

This single motion created a crater in the dirt larger than Manny. He remained floating in place; the ground beneath him vanished, compressing into the earth. The Lucario’s body bulked up, muscles toning his legs and arms, followed by the spikes along his paws and chest vanishing. Rhys recognized this as a subtle change, but an important one—he was now fully Fighting Type, in his Guardian form. Aura Sphere would hold no advantage against him. More worrying was that a single punch would end Rhys. Three, four, perhaps _all_ of his ribs?

“Well?” Manny asked Rhys. “As a Hunter, I know you’ve got somethin’ ter show!”

“Hmph,” Rhys said, slowly entering a neutral stance.

“Eh?” Manny rose up, entering one as well, standing on an invisible platform created by his Mystic power. “What, y’done? Forfeit?”

“Far from it,” Rhys said, looking at the opposing Lucario. “But I believe that if I go, as you call it, all out, this battle won’t last very long at all.” He looked at the spectators. “Anam!”

Manny looked genuinely insulted, face screwed up in a scowl. He crossed his bulging arms.

“Y-yes!” the Goodra said, straightening.

“We have a few Reviver Seeds, do we not?” he said.

“Yer jus’ tryin’ ter get me mad, ain’t yeh?” Manny hissed.

“We do, um…!”

“Give one to Manny. Then I can fight without holding back or worry of losing my power to my Divine Promise.”

“O-oh!”

“Oy, I take offense ter that!” Manny waved his fist in the air. “What’re you playin’ at?”

“Just take it and if it is used up, it’s the same as being defeated, hm?” Rhys said. “You don’t want me holding back. I have a Promise to keep. This is the compromise.”

Manny glared like he’d been tapped on the nose as a punishment. He snorted. “Ehh… Fine.”

Anam wobbled over and gave the Mystic his Reviver Seed. Manny didn’t seem very pleased with this perceived handicap, but he shrugged it off. Anam gave him a small bag to tie around his neck to keep it safe without encumbering his fighting. “Thanks,” Manny said. “Heh… y’got a strong aura.”

“O-oh, I guess so…!” the slimy Goodra replied. He wobbled back to the sidelines and watched.

“Let’s get it on already!” Manny said. “My muscles’re achin’ fer a good punch!” He slammed his fist toward Rhys; the resultant gust of wind nearly knocked away Rhys’ breath.

“Ngh—Of course.” He closed his eyes and tensed his body for a split-second.

His two paws glowed with a bright, blue flame—and then, with a sudden flurry of power, that flame spread up his arms, over his shoulders, over his head, and then down his torso and legs, ending only when his feet were engulfed in a great fire. Rhys opened his eyes, breathing deeply. He brought his left arm forward and bent, his right arm back and ready to strike, his legs poised to jump back or leap forward as the situation called.

“ _Now_ we’re talkin’!” Manny said, entering a similar stance. He made the first move again, dashing with an Extreme Speed, but then transitioned into what Rhys could only guess was his opponent’s personal favorite move. With a flurry of punches and kicks, leaving his defenses completely open, the Fighting Guardian traded his defenses for a complete, unmitigated offense. Rhys took every single hit. Every blow cratered the ground beneath him; the shockwaves were deafening. The nearest tree trembled, dropping a few apples onto the ground.

Anam covered his mouth at the onslaught, but the flame of Rhys’ aura made everything obscured. Manny laughed maniacally with every strike, knowing that every single one was connecting. He _felt_ the impact of every punch. His spirits roared, pressing him to fight harder. Rhys could almost sense their restless souls lashing against his fur.

“Haaaaa!” Manny finished it with a punch to the gut that bent the light around them in a ring-shaped pulse; Rhys grunted and bent over by only a few degrees. Manny panted, fist numb. “H-had enough?” he asked; he was completely open. His Close Combat never failed! Rhys was probably passed out upright.

“You expected me to fall from that strike…” Rhys said, strained. “So, you pushed yourself to guarantee your win… But you didn’t expect this… did you?”

The aura flare that surrounded Rhys was dying down. The embers danced and mingled with his blue and black fur, sinking inside like a dying candle. But some of it remained. The fire around Rhys obscured it at first, but now that they died down, it was clear: a thin, cyan layer of solid aura—the same sort that Rhys had used to deflect Zena’s Hydro Pump—coated him from his ears to his toes. Every move Rhys made, the armor followed, bending at the joints just as his bones did.

Manny’s eyes widened. “A-armor…?” he said.

While the strikes indeed connected, they were dulled by this strange barrier.

“You wanted to know my final technique,” Rhys said.

Manny realized too late what was coming. His legs bent to jump away, but Rhys already struck in return—a single, precise thrust, squarely in Manny’s chest. The strike wasn’t with Rhys’ paw or even an Aura Sphere—no, instead, it was an extension of his paw, made of that same armor, that elongated and tapered off into a single, fine, and flat point. It went right through Manny, splitting his chest open where it sliced. More aura energy rushed through Manny, spreading through his whole body explosively. He couldn’t even grunt.

Then, Rhys jumped away. The Fighting Guardian collapsed to the ground.

Anam stared, wide-eyed. Amia reacted similarly, trembling. They both knew how strong Rhys was, but they thought he _wouldn’t_ actually go all-out. But by some twisted honor of the Fighting Orb, Rhys granted Manny his wish.

The blessed seed inside of Manny’s small bag healed him of his injuries in a wash of golden light. Manny gasped for air and rolled onto his back, huffing with strained breaths. He raised his hand—it was shaking—and held at where he still felt the lingering, yet woundless pain of Rhys’ strike, as if his mind and aura were still adjusting to not being injured.

“S-so that’s yer power…” he said, puffing. “Yer… Mystic desire…”

Rhys nodded. “My specialty is the aura—to the point where I can use what little divine energy I possess to make my flare manifest as a solid object. I… try not to do it too often.” He closed his eyes; the flare became a cloud again, evaporating into nothing. “I hope you are satisfied.”

“Heh… yeah. You win,” Manny said. “Without that Reviver Seed, I’d’ve been down fer a while. Takes a lotta time ter heal from a wound like that. I wouldn’t’a been able ter fight.”

Rhys nodded. “Good. Then you will be coming with us?”

“O’course,” Manny said. “If yer not ev’n th’ strongest… then I gotta see th’ others, an’ how yer students’re doin’.” He held out a paw.

Rhys nodded, smiling with relief. At least Manny had his honor to accept a loss. He held out his paw in return… and then fell backward, straight into the dirt.

“Rh-Rhys?!” Anam said; he and Amia rushed to either side of the Hunter. Amia took the liberty of sitting him up.

Rhys opened his eyes and looked around, ascertaining the time of day. “I—I will be fine,” he said. “What happened? Was I unconscious for only a moment?”

“Yes, dear. Please, don’t strain yourself,” Amia said.

“Ngh… how embarrassing,” Rhys said.

“Oh, sure, no, don’t worry ‘bout me er anythin’,” Manny said, holding his paw in the air to be helped up. James ended up being the one to assist the Guardian to his feet, using his wing as Manny’s anchor.

“That… that technique takes out quite a bit of me,” Rhys said. “I can only use it for a short while before I, well… become unable to fight, too. I prefer to only use it if I know I’ll win quickly.”

“Yeah, sure, rub it in,” Manny muttered, turning away.

Rhys chuckled weakly. He leaned weakly against Amia, dropping any pretenses of dignity. Everything felt numb. “You’re a very strong fighter, Manny,” he said. “But… I may need to be carried back.”

“Aw, I gotcha covered,” Manny said. “But… how ‘bout we jus’ sit an’ rest fer a sec? I think my aura still feels like it’s gotta repair. What’d you do, bust m’ spirit?”

“I may have done some of that,” Rhys admitted. “N-nothing to be alarmed about. You will recover shortly.”

“Feh.” Manny leaned back and then plopped his back against the ground again. The angle seemed awkward, considering he was still partway inside the crater that they’d generated during their fight.

Amia and Anam looked at one another and sat down, too. Amia crossed her legs and adjusted her dress; Anam plopped down with a wet _wap_ and started playing with his little clawless toes, humming quietly to himself. James inspected his feathers, preening where necessary.

“Yeh really managed ter stabilize them?” Manny asked.

“Hm?” Rhys said.

“Gahi seemed fine when I saw’m. But then I saw more like’m, an’ they were all hostile. What’s up with that? Stray mutant Pokémon like’m poppin’ up here an’ there…”

“I’m not sure what caused that to happen,” Rhys said. “I personally would like to know myself. If they’re _intentionally_ being let out to cause chaos… they aren’t doing a very good job. Hmph. But regardless, yes. Team Alloy—the group Gahi is a part of—became unstable after an… incident, and we’ve been repairing the damage ever since. They defaulted to their _battle mode_ , as you call it. And have been in it ever since. They can only stay sane if we suppress their forms in their unevolved states, which haven’t been modified. In a way, it is a means to seal them away in a smaller, safer form.”

“Heheheh…”

“You find that humorous?” Rhys asked, tensing.

“Nah, nah,” Manny said. “Well, that explains it,” Manny said. “So, what, yer sayin’ they’re… not at their evolved forms righ’ now?”

“No. If they were, they would be unable to… _think_ beyond their instincts for battle.”

“Well, ain’t that a shame,” Manny said. “Guess yeh’ve got it covered.”

“Mm… I am a bit concerned,” Rhys admitted. “Owen is starting to learn about his past early. When suppressed, their memories are also sealed away. But now that he’s Mystic…”

“Yeah, I spotted that bit when he visited an’ fought Azu, heh,” Manny said. “Y’think he c’n handle it?”

“I think he will,” Amia spoke up. All eyes turned to her, and she shrank down.

“Y-you… you do?” Rhys said.

“It’s different,” she said. “I think the timing is perfect, Rhys. Owen’s having a hard time right now, but… I have faith that he’ll pull through with everyone else by him.”

“Faith…” Rhys said.

“Heh. Faith. That’s a good one,” Manny said, looking away. “Before I got into this Mystic business, I figured all those stories about Mew an’ Arceus were jus’ that. Stories. ‘Cause I work with facts. Solid, tangible facts. Somethin’ I can punch, eh?” He threw his fist weakly in the air. “Even now, I’m gonna work with that.”

Amia gulped, looking down. She didn’t say anything, but James quietly moved closer to try to assure her that Manny was an idiot.

Manny shook his head. “An’ th’ fact is… I agree.” He flashed Amia a genuine grin. “He’s close, th’ way he was fightin’ Azu. A bit o’ him was in there, even when he evolved. Kinda.”

Rhys looked at Amia, then at Manny. “Amia,” he said, “I understand that it was difficult for you to explain what had happened before, but, please, could you tell me what happened?”

The Gardevoir looked at her hands in her lap. “Mm… I suppose it was different than the other times. Closer than ever, Rhys. First, he evolved, yes. But then… ooh… he tore Azu apart.” She shivered.

“L-literally?” Rhys asked.

“Yeah,” Manny said with a dry chuckle. “Heheh… shook Azu up good, that.”

“I find that hardly funny,” Rhys said.

“I dunno, seemed pretty funny,” Manny said.

Rhys rubbed the bridge of his snout. “Amia, please continue. Azu was defeated. Then what?”

“Well,” Amia said, “Owen was, er, he… tried to attack Azu’s spirit next, but that didn’t work out so well. He just fled. Then Willow and I were calling for him to calm down, and, well, that never really worked…” Amia hesitated. “Except, this time, it actually did.”

Rhys blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Owen stopped. He… he stopped. But… but then he turned around, and he walked toward us. Oh—oh, Rhys, his body was _shaking_. And his eyes… oh, his eyes, I—they were so…”

Anam and James looked at one another. “Angry?” Anam asked.

“Savage, I figure,” Manny said.

Amia shook her head. “Afraid,” she said. “He said… ‘help.’ He said help, Rhys. He was _there_ , Rhys…!” Amia smiled, but then gasped back a sniffle. “He was so _close_ , Rhys…!”

“But… he wasn’t able to be in control,” Rhys said.

“He was hurting,” Amia said. “He said it was in his chest. Like he had to fight, his body was moving like he had to fight, but he wasn’t actually fighting. Too much… energy. I told him to breathe and meditate, and it worked a little, but… oh, if I waited a little longer, maybe he would’ve…!”

“No,” Rhys said. “You did the right thing. I—I had something similar happen to me,” he said. “But rather than continue fighting, after our encounter with Rim, she simply disappeared. Mispy, Demitri, and Gahi all evolved, and then I felt… quite a few vines wrapping around my body. And then I felt energy, and my vision came back, my wounds were healed…” Rhys nodded. “Mispy told me to hurry. Yes. I remember that quite well. So, I returned them to their lowest forms again, but… she was very composed. I honestly think she was just afraid of herself.”

“Composed?” Amia said. “Y-you think—?”

Rhys nodded. “I do,” he said. “It has been centuries, but… I think they’re almost completely healed.”

“Took long enough,” Manny said absently. “Centuries! Hah! That’ll be fun fer them ter sort through.”

Rhys growled to himself. “It isn’t ideal, but it’s better than permanent insanity, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Nah, nah, I get it, I get it,” Manny said.

Rhys was beginning to get second thoughts about inviting this Guardian over. He already demonstrated himself as a bad influence on Gahi. What if they relapse?

“Heh,” Manny went on. “Guess we should head back.”

Manny nodded and stood up, looking refreshed. He held out a paw and released Azu, who happily posed and flexed with a showy shockwave. He leaned forward and hauled Rhys over his shoulder like a log.

“Urf—”

“Ha!” Azu declared. “The challenger Lucario won the battle, and yet he is the one who must be carried!”

“Easy, Azu,” Manny shook his head. “I’d be bleedin’ out if it wasn’t fer that Seed. Oy, Goodra.”

“Y-yes!” Anam said.

“Lead th’ way back!”

“Okay!” He fumbled through their inventory.

In a flash from their Badge, they were gone.


	23. Our Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everyone gathered together for the night, Owen retires to his room to decompress. He learns about the support he has from his friends and family, and later meets someone very important in his sleep.

Star, a floating, pink haze, bounced in the air to get the attention of the others. “G-guys! He’s coming back now! Just—just keep it cool, alright? Don’t ask him anything, but don’t try to ignore it either, okay? Like, just make sure he feels… like how we all think about him, right?” It was hard to tell what gestures the pink cloud was trying to make, but they had the impression she was waving her arms around.

“Pretty much,” Gahi said, looking refreshed after his nap. He flicked his huge head in the air. “I mean, c’mon, he’s Owen! Wouldn’t hurt anyone, guy wants even outlaws ter get a second chance and get back on their feet! He’s the ideal Heart!”

The rest of Team Alloy nodded.

“Exactly!” Star said. “Yes! Good! Keep that up.”

Owen could hear the tail-end of their conversation, but he didn’t want to admit it. They thought that he was an ideal Heart? He killed someone! No—he killed _two_ Pokémon! At _least_! But… it was like Star said. He wasn’t truly that person anymore. That was just… how others _wanted_ him to be. Right? Well, not anymore! He puffed out his chest.

“H-hello?” Owen called.

“Hey, Owen,” Demitri said. He nodded, though it was a bit shaky. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I just needed to… cool off… in the lava.”

Mispy frowned, disappointed at Owen’s sense of humor.

“That, uh, that’s an interesting way to cool down,” Demitri said.

“I’m… I’m just really tired,” Owen said. It was plainly obvious in his lethargic body language. He looked like he could lose all control and sleep on the ground. “I’m sorry that I ran off like that.”

“It’s okay,” Mispy said. The Chikorita saw his aura—the flare was weak and jittery. Tired after a stressful day. Owen wasn’t going to be in the mood for much.

“Yeah,” Demitri said. “I mean… to be honest, we’re still kinda trying to figure out what’s going on, too. Because… apparently, we have… we have a _lot_ of missing memories, h-huh?”

Owen hesitated. Did they know more than he did? No. If they did… they would’ve been screaming. He knew it. But they were definitely nervous about what they _could_ find out.

“I just want to sleep,” Owen finally said. “I’ll… I’ll talk about all this later. Tomorrow. Okay?”

“Y-yeah, totally,” Demitri said. “And then maybe we can train and fight tomorrow?”

Owen’s tail flickered a bit brighter at the offer. But then it waned. That feeling of joy at fighting… Was that his emotion, or was that his instinct? Was that his choice… or was that how he was _supposed_ to react? Who was he, really?

The Charmander shook the thoughts away. He’d never sleep like this.

“Hey, Owen,” Star said. “Don’t forget.”

Owen could’ve broken down right there. Instead, he took a deep breath and nodded. Ideal Heart… If he could give off that impression, then there was still hope.

Mispy’s leaf wiggled. “Hm?” She turned around. “They’re back.”

When they turned, they saw the others return. Taking the lead were the two Lucario; the lithe one they recognized as Rhys and deduced that the bulkier one was Manny. “Wow, that’s pretty interesting,” Demitri said. “Two Lucario, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda cool,” Gahi agreed. “Ehh… the Fighting Guardian…” He stared at the Lucario, clicking his jaws. “He seems real… familiar… doesn’e?”

“Oy, that Gahi an’ th’ others?” Manny said.

Demitri blinked. “Hey, he talks the same way you do, Gahi. Almost exactly the same, actually…”

“Actually, about that…” Star said. “Uh… you remember him at all? Gahi? Guys?”

“I mean, he’s a Lucario, so maybe I have it kinda mixed up with Rhys and stuff,” Demitri said. “Don’t you think? I mean—how would we’ve met him? He’s super old!”

“Aw hey, I ain’t gray-furred yet,” Manny said. “But I guess I’ll jus’ go an’ tell yeh, I remember yeh guys. But back then, yeh guys were fully evolved an’ in yer, eh… modified forms, compared ter how yer species usually looks. Gahi told me ‘bout it, th’ guy looked real shiny.”

“W-wait, you mean…?” Demitri said. “So—it’s really true? We’re… like Owen…?”

“Yeah,” Star said, gently waving a flash of Mystic energy to keep the memories from spilling over for the three. “I guess now that Owen is a Mystic, it isn’t exactly going to be easy to keep this all hidden forever. And besides—you guys are getting a lot better! But… ugh… fine. Anam?” She looked around, spotting the Goodra licking his slimy fingers of the remainder of an Aspear Berry.

“Mgg—Yeah?” he asked, mouth half-full.

“How about you head back to Kilo Village and tell Nevren to head back here. We’re gonna need him and Rhys to… explain everything. Because in a way, they’re the ones that are responsible for… all of this.”

“The Hunters, right?” Owen said. “I mean… I do feel like this should all be out in the open, but…” Owen rubbed his head. “Can it wait? Please? I just… I can’t deal with this right now. I already know what’s going on, mostly, and I don’t know if they can handle it yet. I’m Mystic, and it’s _still_ hard.” He looked at the Chikorita, Axew, and Trapinch.

Team Alloy nodded. “If Owen thinks it’s too much for us,” said Demitri, “then we’ll wait, too.”

“Y-you’re sure?” Star said. The cloud floated a bit closer. “I mean, maybe this will help put you at ease, right?”

Owen smiled slightly. “I think finding out will make it worse,” he said. “Just… tomorrow. Tomorrow morning. Guys? What do you think?”

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi looked at one another.

“Yeah,” Demitri said.

“Eh, sure. Ain’t gonna matter ter me. I don’t get any o’ this yet, heh.”

Mispy nodded. “You’re the smartest,” she said to Owen.

“A-aw, thanks…” Owen scratched behind his head. He still missed his horn.

Manny looked the four over, crossing his arms. He leaned toward Rhys, “Their auras…”

“Quite a bit calmer, hm?” Rhys said.

“Yeah. Whatever yer doin’, it’s workin’. Not quite there yet… eh… but it’s almos’ there. They migh’ ev’n make it next time.” The two Lucario nodded at one another, but after that, they let the group disband. It was a long day of training for them, and recruiting for Rhys’ team. Anam left for Kilo Village—He could at least tell Nevren about the situation.

Owen was about to leave for his home, but he paused on the way. He glanced to his right. This was the same cavern that he would normally use to walk to the lava river. At his usual walking pace as a Charmander, it would take him twenty seconds just to walk across from his home to the home on the other wall of the road. He saw someone shifting around inside, and some latent, buried part of his memories urged him to move forward.

“Hello?” Owen called, stepping inside. He didn’t see anybody, but he did spot a pool of water in the middle of this tiny home. “Huh. That’s weird,” he said. He figured there was nothing inside and turned around, but the feeling returned. He couldn’t leave. But what was the point? He didn’t like water anyway. He rolled his eyes. His mind was just scrambled. He shouldn’t be trusting his feelings at a time like this. He could barely remember a few days ago. But, still…

Owen glanced back, expecting to see an empty pool again. Instead, he saw a Milotic’s upper half sticking out of the water, her lower half blending in with it. “AUGH!”

Zena jumped. “I—I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—”

“N-no, no, it’s okay! I—I just thought—”

“I was resting. I didn’t realize you returned. Are—are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Owen said, clutching his chest to regain his breath. “I’m sorry I ran off like that. I shouldn’t have blamed you for any of this, either, too. I get it. You guys were just trying to help.”

“More like Star forced us to,” Zena said.

“She was right,” Owen said quickly. “If that block wasn’t put in my mind, I think I’d’ve gone insane. I need it. F-for now.”

Zena didn’t respond immediately. She just looked away, nodding.

“Anyway, um, I guess I came here to make sure you were alright. So, you are?”

“I am.”

“Good. That’s good.” Owen stood there. He shifted on his feet. “You’ll be fine?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Owen turned around but then hesitated again. As a Charmander, his senses were still dulled. He had a vague idea that they used to be much sharper. He also had a vague idea that Zena was tense. His heart sank. He was the killer of the very Guardian that used to hold the Orb he now possessed. She didn’t want him around. And why would she?

“Okay,” he said again, stepping outside.

Now that he thought about it, he wondered if this was something that he’d gone through time and time again before. His parents raised him for _so_ long. Weren’t they sick of him? Not to mention, what others did he forget about? But still, this was it. He was almost ready, wasn’t he? Maybe next time, he’ll really stay evolved. And he’ll get all his memories back. And then…

And then what?

“Owen,” Zena said.

Owen stopped, halfway out of Zena’s home. He shook his head, forgetting his train of thought.

“No matter what happens,” she said, “I… want to be there for you. Okay?”

Owen turned around, taken aback. His mouth opened just slightly, but no words came.

Zena smiled. “You’re my friend, Owen.”

Light returned to Owen’s eyes.

<><><> 

The sealed Charmander rolled onto his Rawst bed, skipping dinner. He wasn’t hungry. Maybe he didn’t need to eat anymore, as a Mystic? Either way, he wasn’t much of a mood for a meal. He let out a steady sigh; he felt like the last day was actually ten, and he hadn’t slept for any of it. This seemed like the first moment of real, calm, quiet moments to himself. Star wasn’t giving him a pep talk—though he’d’ve appreciated another—and it was just him in the darkness and his fire. The chat with Zena lifted his mood somewhat, but now that he was alone with his thoughts, everything still bothered him. He even felt the thoughts of the day leave him for a few blissful instances. The crackle of the embers in the middle of the room lulled him halfway to sleep.

“Owen…” Amia said softly.

A pang of irritation. Owen curled up, but he didn’t say anything.

“Owen, I’m… I’m sorry,” she said.

Owen didn’t reply. Couldn’t he just sleep?

“We shouldn’t have kept this all from you, and… we know that it’s just going to make getting all of those memories back really painful, and confusing, and scary, and… and I’m sorry. If I could just undo it, I’d… I mean… I don’t know.”

Alex spoke next, just behind Amia. Owen heard the nervous grinding of the Magmortar’s two cannons bumping against each other. “I’m sorry that you had to go through this, but if we didn’t seal your memories, we never would have been able to calm you down. Calm you from… how you were before.”

“Alex…” Amia said quietly.

Owen knew it was right, but it hurt to hear. He was a monster—and he could become one again, couldn’t he? When he evolved—those memories he still couldn’t recall. What happened then? Did he go berserk again? How badly did he defeat Azu—and in what way? It’s all a mystery—and even with Azu, within Manny, a few houses away, he couldn’t bear to ask. All he had to know was that he did it, and it was enough to terrify Willow into not speaking to him.

“Owen, if there’s anything you want me to do that can help…” Amia said.

“I just want…” Owen choked up. He felt like everything was collapsing around him—or that it already did, trapping him under the rubble. There wasn’t a way out, was there? Short of dying, he was stuck in this life for who knows how long. “I just want…” he trailed off again. “I just want to help everyone…!”

Amia sat down next to Owen. The leaves brushed against one another and her dress. Alex stepped over next; his heavy footsteps disturbed the bed. He sat on the opposite side of Owen, looking down at him.

“We’re here for you, Owen,” Amia said, finally placing a hand on his back. Owen flinched but didn’t resist. “It’s okay. Come on, c’mere…”

Owen trembled and sniffled. He uncurled a bit. Amia leaned over and picked him up, pulling him until he was against her chest. He sniffled and pressed his head against her; finally, the tears began to flow, pouring out of his eyes in thin streams. Alex brought his head down, but let Amia handle it for now. He could barely keep it together, releasing himself through little tremors and gasps.

“It’s too much…” Owen said. “It’s too much…!”

“I know, Owen, I know,” Amia said. “It’s _so_ much… but you’re _so_ strong, Owen. We’re here, too. Ohh, it’s okay, let it out… let it out…”

Owen blubbered, coughing and shaking. No matter how old he was, he only had a child’s handful of memories to work with. Amia was still his mother, and Alex, his father. He wrapped his arms around Amia, but then glanced at Alex. The Magmortar gave him a little smile with his huge lips.

“M-Mom… did… did I kill anybody else…?” he said.

“You didn’t, dear,” Amia said gently. “You were unstable… but Klent and Amelia—those were the only two that died. I promise.”

Owen sniffled. “And what about spirits? Did I hurt any of…?”

“They don’t blame you, Owen,” Amia said. “They all understand what’s going on. They still do. And they’re so proud, Owen… And so am I, and your father..”

Alex nodded. “Keep it up,” he said. “I know you can do this. I’ve known you for so long, and I know you can handle everything the world and beyond throws at you.”

Owen sobbed for quite a while, letting it all out into Amia’s chest. He bumped his head against the flat, fin-like horn in the middle of it—it always comforted him, and Amia gently rubbed at the scales on his shoulders. “You’re just fine, Owen…” she said. “You’re a kind soul, and no instinct will change that with us around. We’ll conquer it. You, Rhys, Star, and us… we’ll handle it together. Because that talent you have, the talents all of Rhys’ students have? Imagine how many others you can help!”

“M-mhm…” Owen sniffed.

“And,” Alex said, “then you’ll be even stronger, don’t you think? Great power and complete control over it.”

“Y-yeah… And you really think I can control it?”

“Owen, that last time you fully evolved, against Azu?”

Owen winced.

“You almost had it. You _almost_ had it, Owen. You’re closer than ever.”

Owen sniffled. Was he really that close, after all this time? How many tries did it take? How many more? The way Amia spoke, it sounded like the very next time would be the last. He was _so close_.

Amia rubbed his back. “Are you hungry, Owen?”

“No… I don’t think I… need to eat…”

“Oh?” Amia said. “Goodness. I didn’t think you got to that point already.”

Owen laughed through his sniffles, but then said, “Y-yeah. I’m getting strong… maybe getting beat half to death by Azu boosted my Mystic aura again.” He laughed, coughed, and sniffled. The weight felt lighter.

Amia finally pulled away. “Want to sleep in our room, dear?” she said. “It’s okay, just for tonight, if you want.”

Owen hesitated, looking at his bed. “Just tonight…”

Alex leaned forward and wrapped his huge arms over the network of Rawst leaves. He headed over to their room in the other part of the cave; Owen’s tail-fire lit the way in along with his father’s flaming upper half. He stared at the ceiling as it moved past him. He remembered this sight. He used to be afraid of the dark when his tail didn’t quite light the whole way. How long ago was that? It was before the cave had mushrooms—before Amia made them to keep the area well-lit for him. She did that for him…

What was he, a horrible monster, doing being afraid of the dark? What would try to hurt him? If anything, _he_ was the creature in the dark that others feared. Owen sniffed again, looking at the rocky walls and the mushrooms that embedded them. They really did care about him. They all did.

If they weren’t giving up on him, then he’d keep going, too.

Amia and Alex’s room was somewhat larger than Owen’s, but looked similar, with a single, large bed at the back edge of the cave wall. It, too, was made from Rawst berries—mainly due to Alex, and also because, sometimes, Amia had sleep-fights and set herself on fire in the middle of the night. Many beds were lost to this until they decided to get a Rawst one.

 _Owen…_ Klent called.

Owen jolted slightly. Amia looked down, concerned, but he shook his head. _O-oh, hi, Klent._

Klent was quiet.

_Klent?_

_...We’re here for you, too. Star wanted me to… remind you about that._

Owen gulped, sniffling again. _Thanks, Klent…!_

Alex pushed Owen’s leaves into their own, and they settled in with the Charmander between them.

Snuggled between his parents, the Charmander fell asleep in seconds.

<><><> 

_…Charmander Owen… conqueror of instincts…_

_Uhh, hello?_

_Owen… follow my voice… reach out to me._

_Mom said not to talk to cosmic strangers._

_I am hardly a stranger. Come, Owen. I mean you no harm. I also doubt your mother told you that specifically._

_Well, I bet she would if I asked._

Silence followed.

_…Owen…_

_You’re not gonna stop bothering me, are you? Is this a dream?_

_This is hardly a dream. Come, Owen. My name is Arceus._

Owen stood in the middle of a black floor in the middle of a void. “Uh—what?” Owen said. Which direction he looked didn’t matter. The only thing he could see was the flame of his tail. “Is this another one of those weird dreams…?”

A blinding light shined in front and above him. Owen shut his eyes and covered them with his right hand. “Ugh—turn that out!” he shouted. Even with cover from his hands and his eyelids, he still saw the light. It slowly faded to a dimmer glow; Owen took the chance to peek. His jaw fell.

It was an incredible sight—one he thought didn’t exist for quite a while, at least until he met Star. A creature with four legs and golden hooves, a grey underbelly, and white fur. Just as the descriptions went, and how the artists had depicted him. He had green eyes and red pupils, and a gold, wheel-like decoration around his abdomen, tipped with emerald-green jewels.

“A-A… A… Arceus…?” Owen said, feeling his knees shake. “Oh, Mew, this is the craziest dream yet.”

Arceus, while he didn’t have a mouth, was still able to speak, simply staring at Owen. “This is not a dream, Grass Guardian. I am Arceus. I have summoned your aura to speak with me. Do you not remember my calling your name?”

“Uhh—I think? I was probably, like, half-asleep… Wait. You—you’re _the_ Arceus? Not—not some… figment or fragment or something that you sent down, or anything like that? You’re _the_ …?”

“I am.”

Owen’s heart skipped a beat. It had been dawning on him in the back of his mind that if Star was real, then Arceus probably was, too. She mentioned the deity, after all. Apparently, he had a temper, but he looked as serene as ever here. Wait. Arceus—shouldn’t he be showing some form of respect?! He quickly got to his knees. “I—it’s an honor for me to see You!” he said. “Wh-what can I do f-for You?”

“…Grass Guardian Charmander Owen,” Arceus said. “Do you feel that this Mystic power has become overwhelming to you? That you think you cannot uphold the responsibilities that the world is forcing upon you?”

He flinched. Owen wondered if Arceus was watching him this entire time. It _was_ a lot. He would have agreed in the afternoon. But now, tonight? He wasn’t done. It was all going so quickly that he needed a few seconds to process it. Arceus waited, unmoving, unblinking. He remembered to breathe—wait, did he need to breathe here? This felt like some part of the spirit world.

Was he so important that even _Arceus_ was watching him, personally? There was a pang in his gut, even as an aura, that didn’t go away. Owen didn’t consider himself to be at that level of importance yet. Especially now, being among the lower tier of Guardians. He decided to play along, wondering if Arceus could read minds the way Star could, or if he had to allow him that privilege. Just in case, Owen decided to keep his thoughts private, preemptively blocking Arceus’ advance, in case that was what he was doing.

“W-well, I mean, it’s pretty hard,” Owen admitted. “And I’ve been going through a pretty rough patch right now since I found out about… You know… You _do_ know, right?”

“I do.”

“Yeah, that,” Owen said. “So, I guess it’s…”

“Would you like things to go back to normal?”

Owen hesitated. Normally, he would just say, yes, he certainly would. He’d love to live a normal life. But could…? Arceus… could He do that? Just… make it normal?

“What do You mean?” Owen asked. And he still had that pang in his stomach. Even stronger, now.

The temptation of everything going back to normal, even after all that talking from the others? He’d be letting them all down! Klent, Star, his parents, his mentors, the Hearts, Zena…

“If you wish,” Arceus said, “I can undo it all. I can take your power away and wipe your memories of ever acquiring that Mystic power—and then make the others forget you ever did, too. It will be as if this all never happened. Is that not precisely what you wished for?”

Owen’s mouth felt dry. He gulped and looked down. He was still on his knees. It didn’t feel right. “I…”

“I’ll even use some of my power further, to rid you of your tainted instincts. I will fix you.”

Owen’s heart skipped another beat. Or did it stop entirely? As an aura, it probably didn’t even matter.

They wouldn’t be let down if they didn’t know it even happened. And without his instincts to get in the way, he could finally evolve. His dream was always to evolve—and stay that way.

Arceus continued. “You will evolve into a Charizard, pure, unmodified, unmutated. You will live, age, and die as one. Everybody else will accept it.  They will think this was how it has always been.” Arceus held out one of his hooves. It glowed slightly. “Let me relieve you of your burden, Owen,” he said, “so that you can enjoy life again.”

The Charmander stared at Arceus again—part of him still couldn’t believe it. But the other part… even if it was a dream…

It was Arceus, after all. He could do _anything_. But did Owen want that? A normal life. What _was_ a normal life? He was never normal. Would he have even gotten into the Thousand Heart Association as a normal Charmander? And what about the others?

“What about Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi?” Owen asked. “Can You fix them?”

“Not immediately,” Arceus admitted. “They are too far away from my influence. But after I help you… I believe I will be able to assist them, too, in time.”

“And—and what about the other Mystics?” Owen said. “Their lives are all so hard, too. And some of them are in danger right now! The ones we can’t find. A-and… and some of them were killed already. The Ground and Flying Guardians… Cara was one. She was so scared, even after it was all over. A-and Forrest… Star said that he didn’t even want to show up.” Owen gulped. “Can You help the other Guardians, too?”

“Certainly,” Arceus said. “I will free them of their Mystic responsibilities, too.” He held out his hoof again. “Do you accept, Owen?”

Owen stared at the hoof. His right hand twitched. A small part of him was telling him to just accept it. Abandon this entire mess, put it in the hands of the Creator Himself. This divine power wasn’t meant for him, after all. It came from Arceus! And now it would return to Him, just as it should.

No. They were strong thoughts. They were selfish and shortsighted. Owen knew better. There were other thoughts that whispered to him in his mind. One part was rational; another was instinctual. And as much as he hated his instincts… there were times when even the worst power was useful.

Why was Arceus approaching him _now_ , of all times? Star, his parents, the Guardians, and even his fellow artificial students. All of them were behind him. He had a lot of uncertainty, sure, but between Zena, his parents, and how _tantalizingly_ close he was to stability… And now, Arceus was coming to take that power away? Talk about bad timing. It didn’t make sense to him. Why didn’t Arceus make this offer to Zena and the others, too? He wasn’t anything special compared to them, right? Aside from… Well, perhaps he was a bit special.

But there was more to it, too. Something less logical. Something in Owen’s core that hissed savagely. Owen wanted to _hiss_ at the Creator. But he held back. But why would he feel that impulse? That defiance against Him, of all Pokémon? Owen usually only felt this way when he was in front of someone being tense, as if anxious, waiting for some kind of opening in battle. But… Arceus? No. Arceus would be the _last_ Pokémon to behave in such a way. Owen ignored his instincts.

But he couldn’t ignore his mind. He had to ask more questions. It was a big decision, after all.

 “I… I don’t know,” he said. “This… this power. I feel like I can do a lot of good with it.”

Perhaps just a day ago, he would have accepted this offer. But this night, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he _could_ handle it, with everyone else’s help.

“And I don’t know if right now’s a good time anyway, y’know, when all my friends are trying to defend themselves against the Hunters, y’know?”

“Mm,” Arceus said.

Owen tilted his head. Did He have more to say?

Arceus went on. “That’s very noble of you, Owen. You wish to use your power to keep the Orbs out of the Hunters’ hands. And I am aware that you wish to follow in Anam’s footsteps, and make the entire world a better place. If that’s the case… Hmm. I must admit that the Hunters, created by Star, are beyond my influence. I cannot easily stop them. I will happily allow you to retain your power if, instead, you pledge to do it under my command.”

“U-under the command of Arceus himself?!” Owen said, rising to his feet. “I’d—I’d…! That’s awesome!”

Owen spoke before his mind could stop him. Even after he said it, he had a doubt. Arceus still didn’t answer his question. But perhaps he could make an exception? Surely he had a grand scheme of some kind. It would probably take too long to explain. Arceus was probably a very busy Pokémon. Did he get paperwork?

Arceus beamed with his eyes alone. He even glowed a bit brighter; that warm light made Owen want to just curl up and sleep in His fur. It looked so fluffy!

“Perfect, Owen. I’m proud of you,” He said. “Now, please, hold out your hand.”

Without thinking, Owen held out his hand. But then he jerked it back. Bad move—how rude! He glanced up at Arceus.

“There is no need to be shy,” Arceus said. Arceus brought a hoof forward; it glowed brightly.

Owen recognized this pose. It was the same one that Zena and Rhys had made to one another. A Divine Promise--something that made even Nevren flinch. At the very least, Owen could listen to what the terms of this Promise would be. He reached out. Arceus’ hoof felt like solid gold. It was hot, even to his fiery self.

“Owen, do you hereby Promise to use your Mysticism under my orders?”

Owen stared at Arceus, lost in his eyes. Instincts paralyzed his throat. His lungs refused to let out a breath. Even his thoughts froze from thinking anything affirmative.  He was entranced by the glory of this Pokémon. And yet… And yet, and yet, and yet. What was this doubt? What was this _feeling_? It almost _hurt_ , how it kept him from saying yes, just entrust himself to Arceus, let Him do the important thinking. Easy! But his mind still didn’t understand the full terms. It was such a _broad_ Promise.

“I… I can’t,” the Charmander said. He let go of his hoof. He lowered his tail with his arms.

“…Excuse me?” Arceus said. The hoof remained.

“I—I need to… can I think about it?” he said. He was starting to recognize the feeling—Arceus… was He…? “What would your commands be, and stuff?” he asked.

“To carry out my missions in the mortal realm. To eradicate the Hunters and liberate the Guardians. To restore my power. You trust me with such a thing, don’t you?”

Owen hesitated. If Arceus needed his power back, what took it away in the first place? Was he not the ultimate being? “A-about that, I had a few questions. I’m very sorry, Your Greatness, but You know how I am as a personality, right? I’m kinda really… curious, about how something isn’t adding up. How come You’re asking me all this stuff now? Did You ask the other Guardians, too? I bet they’d really like to give up their power the same way. Zena was really unhappy for hundreds of years. How come You didn’t help her? That… doesn’t seem right, Arceus. If You’re relieving me of that… how come You didn’t for her?”

The more he vocalized it, the more it didn’t make sense. Why him, and not her? There was more to it. Arceus wouldn’t make these decisions arbitrarily.

“That isn’t really your concern, is it?” Arceus said. “I created this world with my thousand Hands. Surely you can trust me to direct your power. I will train you and hone your skills beyond anything you could have imagined. It is all part of my divine plan.”

“Y-yeah, but… what _for_? What _is_ the divine plan?” Owen said. “I—I mean, you definitely know that I’m kinda nervous about being directed to use my power a certain way, right? You know, being artificial, being _designed_ …”

“I do understand your apprehension,” Arceus said. “I will assure you that my orders will be just, and you will be perfectly content with what I request.”

“Okay,” Owen said, “but how come You’re asking me, then? Oh—and, um, Arceus, Your Greatness, you still didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t You ask Zena the same thing, or the other Guardians? You’d be able to do that, right? Or…? Or can’t You? Is it because—”

Owen nearly choked on his own gasp. If the Hunters were beyond Arceus’ control, what about the other Guardians? Would they be beyond his control, too? What kept him from…?

 _Star_ …

Owen had to test something. And when he spoke next, he made himself _very_ aware of the deity’s body language. If there was one thing his instincts were good for… it’d be this. _This_ was what his instincts were hissing at. They were dull against Zena, so he had to focus a lot harder this time.

“Your... Holiness. Where is Creator Mew Star?”

He saw it. It was an instant. The smallest twitch. His instincts worked, even here. Perhaps as embers, auras without a body, he would not have seen anything, but Arceus was more than just an ember. He had a ‘body’ here. And therefore… he sensed it from His muscles. Anger. Arceus reacted _negatively_ to Star’s name. He stared into those red pupils.

“Is it okay,” Owen said, “if we invite her here?”

“You…” Arceus’ voice deepened, “shall listen to me. Understood?”

“N-no, not understood,” Owen said. Realizing he had just outright said ‘no’ to the topmost being of the universe, he quickly amended himself. But his trust was already gone, and so was any reverence that he may have held. It wasn’t too hard to discard, considering he didn’t believe in him for very long—and since Star already tarnished his idea of what it meant to be a deity. “I—I mean, Arceus, I know that you know everything, but can you maybe give me some of that omniscience? It kinda feels like I don’t have the full picture here…”

With nothing in this black void but the two of them—no visible ground, no rocks, no plants, no movement… the silence that followed felt like an eternity. Owen couldn’t even hear his heart. Maybe it _did_ stop.

“No,” Arceus said. Suddenly, the divine being’s back glowed with a soft, white light. Owen saw tiny, filament-like tendrils, like long bits of thick fur. It radiated an incredible amount of power—Owen felt like he’d collapse just from standing before it. “You will choose, now,” he said, “to either follow me… or be rid of your power completely.”

“Th-that’s… that’s not right…!” Owen said.

“Choose.”

The tendrils of light floated like seaweed in still water; gently, they pointed toward Owen and glowed brighter. Owen gulped. _Star… help…!_ “What… what happens if I don’t accept?”

“So, you refuse me?”

Owen knew that he’d regret it—but he had no choice. His instincts were screaming at him. Arceus was obviously hiding something, and it wasn’t for his own good. Owen didn’t want to believe it, but every fiber of his deepest being was screaming at him—this was indeed Arceus… and he was indeed _lying_.

No turning back now. “I refuse.”

And just like that, the many tendrils rushed right for Owen. He shut his eyes tight—this was it, wasn’t it? For a split-second, he wondered if he should have said yes. Because either way, it was going to end. Would this hurt? Would he even remember this? Or was it another stress-induced dream? Oh, please, let it be a dream—he missed worrying about his own sanity. That was much better than facing divine retribution.

But then, he heard a collision—many, many collisions, with strange, ethereal echoes. He didn’t feel anything—no pain from the strike, no loss of power. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes.

“S… Star?”

It was the Mew, but she was glowing—and her back had the same, white filaments from her back, like wings. Each one blocked one or two of Arceus’ filaments, neutralizing his attack.

“You’ve got guts, Owen,” Star said. “But you bit off more than you could chew this time.”

“Star…” Arceus said, staring down at him.

“Yo, Barky.” Star smirked.

“You shall _not_ use such a name,” Arceus said.

“Trying to pluck away another one?” Star asked. “You didn’t even give your usual compromise this time. You must be real _scared_ , huh?”

The sight of Arceus’ angry expression made Owen want to throw up. What little breath he had left exited his throat. “St-Star…!” Scared? Was that the answer? But he was weak! Anam was a much bigger threat to Arceus if they were going by strength.

The Mew gave a little wink at Owen. Owen realized it then—if he was going to get answers, it was going to be from Star.

“I’m going,” Star said. Facing Arceus, she continued, “Follow me, and you know you’ll be in trouble. C’mon, Owen. Let’s go.”

“Wait, wha—”

And they vanished.

In the silence of the void, Arceus hissed. “Star…” he said. “…You really mean it this time… don’t you?” Ten seconds of silence filled the void. He closed his eyes, sending a thought her way. _I hope you have the resolve to follow through, Star._

And Star replied. _Bite me._


	24. The Endless Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saved from Arceus, Owen has some time to speak with Star in the spirit realm. He meets a friend of Star's, and then does a bit of learning about what makes him so important to her plan.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Owen said.

He was weightless – it didn’t look like there was anything around him except a swirling, blue-black void in all directions. He looked up; he saw blackness with a flickering, cyan mist. But then, when he squinted, he saw that this mist also had brighter spots in it. “Are those…” They reminded him of Rhys’ paws when he was meditating or fighting. “Are those auras?”

“Yep,” Star said.

“W-wah!” Owen jumped, losing his balance in the void. “Where’d you come from?” He was stuck rotating laterally.

“Oh! Sorry. I got lost along the way, nearly lost you, ha!” The Mew chuckled, patting him on the back. She grasped him gently by the shoulders to halt the spinning.

Owen sighed. “Don’t—don’t do that! Just tell me where we are!” Owen pointed at the mist but then noticed his arm. It looked… blurry. “What’s…?” He brought his left hand on his right arm; it passed right through. The scales were flying off like dust in the wind—along with everything else in him. His hand went first, the little fingers washing away like a wad of mud in a river. There was no pain—and for some reason, that made it worse. “Wh-what’s happening?!”

“D-don’t panic, Owen! You’re fine!” Star said, holding his right shoulder. “Uh—oops,” she said. When Star pat him, his entire arm fell away, floating in front of him. It dissolved into a fine, cyan mist. Owen stared helplessly as his body dissolved into light. While it didn’t hurt it didn’t feel good, either. He lost all sensation. He tried to move his arm—but he no longer had an arm to move.

After the arm, everything else advanced much more rapidly. His toes and tail, then the legs. Did he have a head? He couldn’t use his arms to feel for his head, because those were already long gone. His torso floated past his vision like smoke. He tried to gasp with the lungs he no longer had.

He tried to talk, but it didn’t work. He didn’t even know how he was seeing anything—he had no eyes. No eyelids to blink with—no mouth to speak with, nothing. _Nothing_.

“Just—just talk with your thoughts, Owen. It’s okay,” Star said. “You’re in the aura sea right now, Owen. You’re pressed up against the edge of, uh… the living world.”

Owen struggled to work with this new sort of communication. It felt like it was all he had left. _What do you mean, the edge? Isn’t that just the Grass Orb, and the other Orbs?_

“Yes and no,” Star said, rubbing her head. “C’mon, stay by me, okay? Or you’ll get caught up in the flow.”

_Flow… right…_ Owen reflexively tried to look down at his hands. Not only did he not have hands, but he also didn’t have a head to look down with, or a neck to curve. He didn’t know what _nothing_ felt like, but this was as close as he’d ever gotten to it.

Sensing his panic, Star said, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. This’ll all go back to normal soon. It’s just, weaker auras don’t last very long here. They dissolve into their most basic component, the flare.”

Owen adjusted. He looked at the many others who looked exactly like him. They were moving in the opposite direction that he and Star were, toward some other void. _Where are… they going?_

“Oh, just the spirit world,” Star said. “This is sorta the passageway from the point when an aura passes on, to the spirit world.”

_So this is… I heard legends about this…_

“Legends? Huh. Once a mortal gets here, there’s no going back, usually. I guess some of them just guessed correctly.”

Owen saw something else ahead. A hulking creature, to be sure, with a gray body with yellow stripes and a single, glowing, red eye. Dusknoir. Owen hesitated on advancing, but when he fell too far behind Star, he felt a strange force pulling him toward the void that the other auras were heading toward. He tried to call out to Star with his nonexistent mouth.

“Don’t be afraid,” Star said, reaching over to keep Owen from slipping away. The mere gesture of her hand created a force that drew Owen closer. “That’s just Hecto.”

_Hecto…?_

“Well, one of him.”

They were going right toward him. Eventually, they were right in front, and the Dusknoir stopped… whatever he was doing. “Star,” Hecto greeted. “Hello. I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you not with my others?”

“Oh, I was, but I had to grab Owen,” Star said, pointing at the flare. Owen felt himself shrink.

“…He has perished? Already?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Star said. “Barky summoned his aura when he was asleep, and now I’m taking him back on the down-low so the Alpha can cool off.”

_Wait, Barky? What? Huh? Oh, you mean…._

“She means Arceus,” the Dusknoir said. “It is a nickname developed by Star, specifically because, as you put it, he barks a lot.”

“Barks orders, more like,” Star muttered. “Just because he has a few more Hands than I do doesn’t mean he’s the strongest in the pantheon. I’m important, too!”

“You certainly are,” Hecto said. He was… quite expressionless. Owen had no idea if his statement was sarcastic or genuine. “Would you like me to create a fast route to your home, then?”

“Nah, I could’ve done that myself. I just wanted to take the scenic route so Barks can cool down.”

_If I call Arceus that… will he kill me?_ Owen said.

“Probably,” Star said. “But hey, do what you want. I’ve got you protected.”

_Okay, actually, hang on,_ Owen said. _Why am I protected? Compared to the other Guardians? What’s so important about me? I’m not even that strong compared to some of the others._

“Hm. So you haven’t explained this to him?” Hecto said.

“I mean, I explained most of it. But now that Barky’s in the picture. I guess I should give him more of the story. Did your others tell you about what happened?”

“Of his memories returning? Yes.”

Star nodded. “Owen… I think it’s time that we explain to you why you’re so important in all this. I mean—I don’t think we can tell it… tell it all just yet, but at _least_ what sets you apart from the others.”

_You mean aside from the fact that I’m a freak of nature,_ Owen said.

“Yeah, actually,” Star said. “There’s more to it. Want to come along, Hec?”

“My others will be there. I am still watching the flow.”

_…What do you do here?_ Owen asked.

“I watch,” Hecto said. “There is a lot to learn… if you just watch.”

_Watch…?_ Owen turned his focus on the flowing auras. All he saw were a bunch of cyan flames in a thin steam.

Star sensed his concentration and chuckled. “Sure, let’s spend a bit of time doing this.”

Owen stared, and stared, and stared…. And then, he started to hear something. Little whispers, voices. Confused voices, mostly. Some sounded sad. Others were relieved. And others still, angry. Desperate. Eager. Worried. But he couldn’t make out what they were saying—it was a cacophony. He heard words, but he couldn’t make it all out. There was too much to hear—a thousand words a second, a million… He had to break away.

_U-ugh…_

“Pretty overwhelming, huh?” Star said. “Don’t worry. Let’s get going, huh?”

_Y-yeah. I’ll leave that stuff to Hecto_.

Owen appreciated that the rest of the trip through the aura sea was quiet. Star didn’t ask any questions, but she did give him a little, reassuring smile when she sensed he was feeling uneasy. Somehow, it helped. He knew he was still experiencing some sort of shock from having the very creator of reality try to kill him. How deep into this mess was he? Still, Star had his back. And she seemed to be able to fend him off, at the very least.

Star eventually broke the silence. “Oh, we’re almost there. It’s gonna get bright.”

Just then, Owen’s surroundings lit up—he was still an ember, but now he was floating in a brown, rocky cave. Directly ahead of him was the mouth of the cave. He couldn’t see anything from where he was standing, but it appeared to be overlooking a cliff. Behind him, further inside, was a complex network of tunnels and corridors, and even some furniture. Owen was unnerved at how… normal it all seemed, after what he had just gone through.

“Welcome to my hangout,” Star said. “Oh, uh, sorry. Forgot that your body dissolved. So, just focus, and you’ll form it back.”

_Just focus?_ Owen said.

“Yeah, like, imagine that you have a body again, and you’ll become what you’re thinking about.”

Owen bobbed in the air and concentrated. First, he felt his legs return to him, and then his tail and waist. Then came his belly, and then his arms, and finally his head; next, from his back, two large wings sprouted, followed by two horns on the back of his head.

Star blinked, but then smiled sadly at him. “Oh, Owen…”

“H-huh?” Owen said but then gasped, clutching at his long muzzle. He didn’t expect his voice to be so deep. “Oh, I… I guess I…”

Star chuckled. “You _really_ want to evolve, huh?”

Owen looked back at his massive tail, swinging it a few times, and tried to outstretch his wings. It felt… strange, having two new limbs, yet familiar. “Did I… look like this?” the Charizard asked.

“Mn… no,” Star said. “You… didn’t look like a normal Charizard. But, you know—just work with this! I think you look good in whatever you’re comfortable with, Owen. Just, uh, walk carefully. Your balance is going to feel different.”

Owen rubbed the back of his neck. That was strange, too. It felt so much _longer_ now.

“Actually, this might turn out to be useful,” the Mew said. “See, I want to go down there.” She pointed to the mouth of the cave and floated to the entrance. Owen followed, wobbling for the first few, heavy steps, but had to stop just to admire the view.

“Whoa…” Owen said. “It’s… it goes on forever…!”

Below him was a sea of green leaves atop tall trees. There was a bluish tinge to them, vaguely reminding Owen of the auras of the sea he was just a part of. There was certainly something mystical about it—it must have been the glow. And indeed, it went on endlessly, blending into the purple horizon like a lumpy field of aether.

“This is the ethereal forest,” Star said. “It’s kinda where I go if I want to think—I made it myself a long time ago.” She jerked her head to the side, motioning for him to follow, and floated down to the forest floor. Owen hopped and stretched his wings—by instinct, he knew how to glide and descend to the bottom.

His heavy body felt like air for that brief moment; a stupid grin spread across his face halfway down. He broke through the trees and landed on dark, blue grass, where the leaves blocked most of the sun. Instead, the plants underneath glowed, similar to the mushrooms of Hot Spot Cave. The same went for the black tree trunks. Owen kicked over a pebble and saw a fine, cyan mist puff out and dissipate. Entertained, he kicked over another, and another; he accidentally crushed one, and it, too, burst into little blue lights.

Owen suppressed his smile to address Star. “Um, so, why did you want to come here?” Owen asked.

“To talk,” Star said. “This is my turf. Barky can’t bother us here. So… I just wanted to tell you about… what makes you so special. And not in the stupid way where everyone is special. I mean like, on a practical level, you’ve got something that sets you apart from the other Guardians. And also, you’re synthetic, but that’s beside the point—okay, so… are you still with me?”

“Halfway.”

Star sighed. They walked through this ethereal forest. Owen took some time to admire the blueness of the leaves, and then at the seemingly infinite web of trunks ahead, behind, and all around him. He ran his hand along the trunk. The wood was hard, but it wasn’t dry. He’d have to really put forth an effort to knock one down.

“Let’s just put it this way,” Star said. “Yeah, you’ve got special powers, and maybe a few perks from being genetically crafted by crazy aura-bio science, but… the main difference that you have between all the other Guardians with us? It’s that you aren’t… aligned with Barky yet.”

“What? You mean the Guardians all made a Divine Promise to him?”

“Yes,” Star said. “But Barky didn’t see them as a threat. He made them Promise… to never gather the Orbs together into one person. I guess that’s why he’s not complaining about them joining up with you to fight the Hunters, because even if they win, they still can’t overpower him.”

 “Wh—I mean, yeah, isn’t that what we’re trying to avoid?” Owen said. “That’d usurp Arceus! And I feel like that’d be really, really bad news.”

Star was quiet. Owen stopped walking through the infinite forest; Star floated a few more feet ahead.

“Star…?” Owen said. “What… what are you getting at with this?”

Star stared at the treetops, flicking her tail. For just a second, her tail split in two, akin to an Espeon’s, and the two ends swatted at one another.

“Owen,” Star said. “Times… change. And leaders… that are in power for too long… can lose touch with the world they rule. Don’t you think?”

This time, Owen was quiet.

“There’s… a lot that I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you, or anyone,” Star admitted. “But… you saw how Arceus was to you. That wasn’t some exception. He’s just _like_ that, now. High and mighty, forgetting that _he_ works for mortals, not the other way around.”

“Wh-what do you mean? Aren’t… aren’t we supposed to be thankful to Arceus for all he’s done for us? Maybe he’s a little worried or—” Owen shook his head. What was he saying? He tried to kill him!

Star laughed weakly. Owen never heard a laugh so bitter. “Maybe that’s the opinion you were taught,” she said, “but come on. I know you weren’t the sort to believe in either of us until recently. But you know what? I think we can do better than sit in our kingdom and stare down at the world. If you guys are forgetting about us, we aren’t doing a good job, are we? I _know_ we can do better.”

Owen shifted from his left foot to his right, shuffling his wings awkwardly.

“I know you aren’t ready to decide or anything, Owen,” Star said, “but… you want all this to end, right? You want to stop the Hunters from trying to gather the Orbs, and you want to stop Arceus from being… well, the way he is?”

“I—I do,” Owen said. “I just want everyone to be happy, and I don’t want anybody to feel afraid.” He felt like he’d said this a thousand times, but he said it again. “Just like Anam.”

Star nodded. “Well, I’ll… help you, okay? We’ll stop Arceus _and_ the Hunters, together.” She stopped floating ahead and turned around. “Hey, Owen. Would it be okay if…?” Star looked right in the Charizard’s uncertain, blue eyes.

Owen gulped. He got that feeling again, even from Star. An icy pit formed in his chest, already flashing back to that warmth that Arceus radiated while coercing him to make a Promise. He didn’t feel that from Star. But knew the question was coming. She was going to ask him the very same question all over again. She just rescued him to get Owen’s loyalty for _herself_ …

Star smiled slightly. “…No. It’d be wrong of me to ask you that now, of all times, huh? Okay. No Divine Promise from you. But… can you just give me a regular promise that… you’ll hear me out when the time comes?”

The icy pit subsided, but only slightly. No Promise? His pulse slowly lowered, but that didn’t free him completely of his lingering doubt. He _just_ got through denying one deity a Promise, and he felt like he had just gone into round two. “What’s a regular promise to you?”

“The ones you can break… if… I dunno, if you need to,” Star said. “Won’t take your power away or anything. Just a normal one.”

Owen shuffled uncomfortably where they had stopped walking, admiring, again, the dark trees that glowed with some mystical power. It distracted him. If Star could just _vanish_ for a while, that’d be lovely. Unfortunately, Star seemed adamant about staying by Owen. “I guess so,” he said. “I’m just not comfortable making promises to a god right now, okay?”

Star winced. “Y-yeah, I’m _really_ sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think it through. I shouldn’t have hinted like that. Bad taste. Too soon.”

“I mean, you were planning to ask me this some time anyway, right? To pledge… loyalty to you, or something.” Owen looked down. “I’m just not comfortable doing that, Star. To anybody. Because that’s not what it means to be a Heart.”

“Not what it means to…?”

Owen shook his head. “Hearts aren’t loyal to Anam. We fight for the world and everybody in it. We’re supposed to keep them safe.”

Star stared at Owen for five seconds. Owen maintained his eye contact. If anything, his gaze, while neutral, intensified, never breaking. And then she smiled, breaking the stare, laughing.

“What’s so funny?!”

Star shook her head, covering her mouth with her left paw. “Your eyes looked just like Anam’s for a second,” she said. “I mean, yours are blue, and his are green, but they were so full of light! I don’t know, Owen. I just felt really happy for a second, if that makes any sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Owen frowned.

“I should expect it. That’s the sort of personality that Anam likes to recruit. Bright-eyed.” She nodded.

Owen sighed, settling down. Star slowly did, too, lowering her altitude until she was at eye-level again. A slight tension returned. Aftershocks from meeting Arceus, he was sure. Owen clenched his claws and breathed deeply. He wondered if meditating worked in the spirit realm.

“Star…” Owen said. “I’m… I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to make a Promise to you. Ever.”

“Oh,” Star said quietly. She curled her tail around her floating body. “H-how come?”

Owen rubbed his right arm with his left. “I know that you saved my life a little while ago, and I know you’ve been going out of your way to try to get as many Guardians together as you can, but… after what happened back there… How do I know you aren’t doing the same thing to me?”

“Well… I’m not trying to kill you right now, aren’t I?” Star said.

Owen flinched. “I guess,” he said. “But—”

“Owen, do you seriously think I’d try to kill you? I’ve been trying to help you guys this whole time!”

Owen wondered how much he should press when in Star’s ‘turf.’ But he still had the smallest bit of trust in Star, at least enough to believe that she wouldn’t kill him. It was a low bar of trust.

“How do I know you aren’t just doing it to eventually turn on us or something? Gather up the Orbs to steal from us all at the same time…” he trailed off.

Star crossed her arms. The Charizard gulped, realizing the flaw in his idea. “Go on,” Star said.

Owen sighed. “You could’ve just killed us one by one if you could’ve done it to all of us at once.”

“Uh-huh. Also, if Barky’s worried about gathering the Orbs together, then you’re technically a threat to _me_ , too. Just pointing that out.”

“R-right. Right.” Owen nodded. “Okay.”

“But,” Star said, “I’m glad you’re being careful, Owen. To be honest, I think a lot of the other Guardians are kinda indifferent about me.” She rubbed the back of her neck thoughtfully. “And Zena’s… uh… I need to try to patch things up with her in particular. And the others… They’re just going along with it because it’s better than how they were before. It’s not like they… _trust_ me, either. I know what I did to them.”

Owen briefly thought back to Zena, alone in her home just that night. His heart hurt just thinking about it.

“I—I just want to make things right, Owen,” she said. Owen looked up, hearing her voice, just barely, strain. “I’m sorry that I’m not ready to tell you guys about all the mistakes I’ve made. But I will, okay? I will. Then I’ll… let everyone judge me. For everything. I’m… I’m just not ready yet. I thought I was, but then, the way Zena reacted…”

“Rightfully,” Owen said automatically but regretted doing so moments later.

Star shook her head. Owen was ready to vocalize an apology, but Star held her paw up. “Y-yeah. I just—I need time. I’m sorry. I’ll feel better about it after I actually fix everything I broke. Okay? Do we have a deal?”

Owen tensed.

“Sorry, bad phrasing,” Star tittered nervously. “I mean, are you okay with that?”

The Charizard relaxed, puffing a small plume of smoke from his nostrils. He nodded. If anything, he sensed no malice from Star the same way he did from Arceus. He supposed that, deep down, he trusted Star for him to question her so openly in the first place.

There was still one question nagging at him. “So,” he said, “how about why you can’t tell me about _my_ issues?”

He caught a twinge of annoyance in the way Star’s left eye twitched.

“Listen,” she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her tiny snout. “Think for a second. What happened when you found out that you killed Klent? All the memories started flooding back, right? And why I told you not to try to jog Gahi’s memory. Because that’d make _him_ get the same panic attack, yeah? You were losing it. Now, imagine that, times, like, fifty. _That’s_ why I can’t tell you yet.”

“Oh.” Owen nodded. Those memories _were_ … overwhelming. “But—does that mean I have to never remember at all?”

Star shook her head. “They have to come slowly, and when you can control yourself when you’re totally… unsealed. If you can fully evolve, _and_ stay sane—that’s gonna be the best time you can handle it. Your brain won’t… break, trying to reconcile all the craziness of remembering being a Charizard when you’re still a Charmander.”

Just listening to that statement gave Owen a sharp headache near his right temple. He grumbled and grasped at the area just above his right eye.

“ _That_ ,” Star pointed at him, “is my proof. Believe me now?”

“O-okay,” Owen said. If just knowing a _little_ about his past made him panic, he can only _imagine_ what would happen if he knew the trigger.

Star sighed again, shaking her arms and legs as if getting the last of her vulnerability away. “Are you satisfied, now?” she asked. “Your memory seal is teetering, and if too many come at once, it’ll scramble all over again. Don’t make me do that again.”

Owen felt the tension leave his chest. He nodded, but then said, “No promises.” He smirked.

“Not funny.” Star smirked back.

They spent a few seconds just staring at one another, and Owen finally had the sense to continue walking. But then, he heard something off to the side; his tail-fire lit up bright and he swung in the direction of the noise, ready for some disciple of Arceus to come to take his soul. He spotted something—a strange, canid creature with a black body and green, hexagon-like markings all over, with white, hexagon eyes. “W-wait, isn’t that a…?” Owen trailed off. “That’s—that’s a tenth of a Zygarde!”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Star said quickly. “That’s just another Hecto! Yo! Hecto! Were you eavesdropping again?!”

“I apologize,” Hecto said. He stepped out from the bushes and bowed to Owen. “You already met my Dusknoir manifestation, yes? I monitor the flow of the spirits transitioning into the spirit world, but most of my copies are dedicated toward observing the living realm. I suppose you can call me Star’s eyes.”

“And my better half,” Star winked at Hecto.

The Zygarde, expressionless, said to Owen, “Yes. That as well.”

Owen had to stare between the two for a while. He shook his head. “You guys are weird,” he said. “I don’t think all this cosmic stuff is good for my head. Got me all confused and… I dunno. I feel like I should focus on simpler stuff.”

“Hah!” Star said. “You’re my kind of guy, Owen. Glad that you can keep a down-to-Kilo head even after becoming Mystic and stuff. You’ll need that.”

“Y-yeah,” Owen tittered. “So, uh… where does this forest go, anyway?”

“It goes to where you wish for it to go,” Hecto said. “I mean this literally. Moving forward is all that is required to reach a place you desire, so long as it is within the spirit realm. It takes some time, but you will indeed arrive.”

“Wow,” Owen said. “That’s crazy. And why does it work like that?”

“Just because,” Star said. “It’s the spirit world. I mean, it’s my realm. I kinda make the rules.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

It only took a few steps before Star saw what appeared to be a forest that was paler and greener than her blue, ethereal one.

“Oh, so you wanna go to your Orb’s realm?” Star noted.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “Just… I think I’m ready to talk to them. And see Amelia. Like how you wanted me to at the lava river.”

“O-oh,” Star said.

“I want to apologize, even if… I know that’s not enough.”

Star nodded. “I think it’ll go okay,” she said. “Not great, but… okay.”

Owen smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

Eventually, they were halfway toward the Grass Realm. Owen found himself focusing on how the sounds of his footsteps were louder like this. He was starting to grow self-conscious of it. Was that loud sound annoying the other two? Hecto walked softly, and Star simply floated. “Star,” Owen said. “In the memories I have right now, I… have really vague memories when I was a Charizard, or—the synthetic version. I felt… fine. Felt normal. I didn’t really… go crazy.”

“You weren’t in your battle mode,” Star said. “That’s when you go crazy. Synthetics like you have two modes—controlled by your masters. Or, well… that’s how it was supposed to be. Something went wrong with you guys, and you couldn’t get _out_ of that mode. Manny figured out how to sorta grind it away it for the spirits he has, but it’s not as easy for you guys. You’re unstable.”

“I mean… we were the first of our kind, right?” Owen said. “I guess that’s part of the reason.” He looked at Star again. “What… caused it to go wrong for me? Do you know? What’s the trigger that made us go crazy and couldn’t get… not-crazy without resetting us?”

Star hesitated. “Didn’t we go over this already?” she said. “Please, Owen. Not this line of questions.”

“…Oh, is that one of the things that might make me lose it?” Owen said.

“It’s probably the _single_ worst thing I can make you remember,” Star said.

Owen gulped.

“You’re close to suppressing it already,” Star said. “You _almost_ pulled through at that fight with Azu, but we lost you. Amia had to reset you—Rhys taught her how, since we had to keep you with her so you were away from the other three. Rhys could handle them.”

“Not me?” Owen said.

“Ohh, no,” Star chuckled. “Of the quartet, you’re the brains. Rhys saw you as a real threat if you had enough resources. That was your specialty—being resourceful. Your head… it was just so good at using everything at perfect efficiency. That’s your special move, Owen. Fire Trap. A trace of your true abilities…. But… I don’t want to trigger the memories yet. It might mess with you even in your current state,” she said. “So… I’ll just tell you this. If you ever see Demitri, Mispy, or Gahi evolve to their synthetic forms…” The Mew stopped floating to look right at Owen. “ _Run_. Okay? Get as far from them as possible.”

The forest stood still, and Owen gulped. He nodded.

“Good!” Star grinned. She turned around and advanced. “C’mon! The Grass Realm is just this way!”

Hecto and Owen watched her. Then, the Zygarde turned his head, looking up at Owen with his blank, hexagon eyes. “She is very proud of you,” he said. “It isn’t often that she puts so much trust in a mortal to handle something this large.”

“Oh, really?” Owen said.

Hecto nodded. “You have potential,” he said. “She wishes to harness that potential for the good of the world. I do hope you can align with her one day.”

“I—I don’t think I’m at that level,” Owen said. “I just want to help everyone…. And no alliances! Not until she tells me _everything_. I already had Arceus try to trick me onto his side, and don’t think Star’s getting any favors, either! As far as I’m concerned… they’re just trying to use me for their own war. And I’m not having any of that.”

“Mm,” Hecto said.

Owen tried to push his powers into overdrive to sense any sort of twitch from the Zygarde. Now that he knew this _was_ part of his synthetic, weaponized talent, he had even more confidence than before that he’d be able to use it. And yet… nothing. From Hecto, Owen couldn’t sense anything. No positive or negative reaction. Could he be hiding it? Even from him? Hecto was listening, and that was all Owen knew for sure.

“U-uh, anyway,” Owen said, unnerved, “what’s your story? With Star?”

“Hm? My story?” Hecto said. They finally resumed their walk. “Star and I are partners on the cosmic scale. While I am native to the world she created, I suppose I caught her heart, long ago.”

“…Huh?”

“We have a history,” Hecto said.

“I mean, sure, I figured that much,” Owen said. “You… _caught_ her heart?”

Hecto stared at Owen. “Hm.” The Zygarde walked on.

“W-wait! What does that mean?!” Owen said, chasing him.

Soon, they exited the ethereal forest.


	25. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen meets one of his victims for the first time and tries to make amends. Later, he and the other Guardians prepare for a session of training. Then, Owen goes grocery shopping with Rhys and Zena.

“Hello?” Owen called. “Klent? Everyone…?”

It was like what had happened when he had first arrived. A clear, bright glade without any sign of Pokémon life. But Owen could sense them this time. He figured it was because his aura was getting stronger and more tuned to his Mystic energy, or perhaps as a Charizard, his natural perception abilities were heightened. He could sense Klent specifically, as one of the strongest spirits of this realm.

He turned to his right. “Hey, what’re you so shy for?”

The Jumpluff quietly emerged. “I, er… I wasn’t sure if you were still upset or not,” Klent said. “Are you…?”

“Don’t worry, guys,” Star said. “He’s fine. And Barky didn’t get him, either.”

Klent deflated with relief. “When I felt him leave for his realm, I thought it was over,” he said. “Owen, you’re still free to… choose what to do?”

“I, uh… yes?” Owen said. “Free to choose what?”

“What to do with your power, compared to just following what Arceus says,” Star said.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I can,” Owen said. “And I’m not with Star, either. I’m just me. Actually, about that, um, about power, and stuff. Klent, I… I’m really sorry about what I did to you, y’know, when…”

“It’s okay, Owen,” Klent shook his head. “I… suppose I’ve also been holding a grudge. You weren’t in control of yourself. But… well. It’s hard to shake the image. But I’ll move through it. You’ve changed… and you’re in control, now.” He spoke as if it was rehearsed, but Owen chose to believe that it was coming from the right place. He _was_ the one who killed Klent and his daughter, after all. Even after a few centuries, that might still sting. He wondered if it was true that spirits held grudges for much longer than mortals.

Owen shook his head, shaking the distracting thoughts away. “How—how in control was I against Azu?” Owen asked.

Klent rubbed his pom-poms together. “A bit… ruthless, yes. You used the same attacks that we’re… familiar with. But Amia was able to calm you down enough to reset your form.”

“Calm me down…?”

“That was impossible before,” Klent said. “That shows just how much progress you made. And I have… more faith in you, now, in controlling yourself when you evolve again. Perhaps if we can do it in a less stressful situation, you’ll have a better chance at controlling yourself. But for that to happen, we’re going to have to keep training you—in the mind, body, and aura—to make sure you’re ready for what’s to come with the Hunters.”

“Y-yeah. We’re fighting them, huh?” Owen said.

“Unless we find some way to make a compromise, yep,” Star said.

Owen nodded, but then gently shuffled his wings, grabbing his right one to pick between the scales. “Klent… where’s Amelia?”

The Jumpluff’s gaze darkened slightly. “I—er, she’s… she’s nearby.”

A little gust of wind blew through the otherwise still forest. Owen wondered if he should drop the subject. But his mouth moved on its own.

“Should I turn to my Grass form?”

More silence filled the air. The gust of wind had passed, leaving the forest in complete silence.

“No,” Klent said. “Stay… stay in that form.”

“As—as a Charizard?” Owen stuttered. “Is—isn’t that the form that—?”

“Not _that_ Charizard,” Klent said. “…This will do. I’m sure of it. You look… a bit cuter that way.”

Owen blushed. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well, you’re shorter, less muscular, a little chubby… much less intimidating than how you normally look.”

“I—I’m not chubby!” Owen protested, clutching at his round belly. “Th-that’s the natural look for my species! It’s—it’s healthy!”

“I’m sure it is, Owen,” Klent chuckled, “but that doesn’t hide the fact that it’s cuter.”

Owen whined and looked at Star helplessly.

The Mew giggled, “Well, I _did_ design you guys to look like chubby bipedal fire-dragons,” she said.

“Would it’ve hurt to give us the actual Dragon type…?” Owen mumbled.

Klent and Star both chuckled.

Owen pouted again. “Well… if you think Amelia is ready, and she’s fine with me looking like this, then I’ll… be here.”

“I’ll see,” Klent nodded. “It won’t be long. I’ll be back.” The Jumpluff floated into the forest.

Owen had a few seconds to himself. Star was chatting with the other Grass spirits. Hecto was silently gazing upon the field nearby. The Charizard rubbed the back of his head, startled at the two horns that sprouted in the back. Did he have horns in his true form, too? They felt so foreign, somehow… Perhaps they were different. He vaguely recalled having horns of some kind. He hoped they looked cooler.

“Hey, Hecto,” Owen said.

“Yes?”

“Are there other Legendary Pokémon like you around?” Owen asked. “I never see them. You only read about them.”

“Mm. There is one more,” Hecto said.

“Oh. Just one, huh?” But before he could ask, he heard the bushes shuffling, and the thought left him.

Klent returned after only a few seconds, nodding. “Just don’t make any sudden movements.”

“Y-yeah, totally.”

The bushes breathed out a whisper. Owen gulped, wondering if this would trigger any memories, but held strong. He kept himself as neutral as possible, but couldn’t keep his eyes from locking onto the movement. His heartbeat quickened.

Finally, she revealed herself—a Lilligant. Her orange eyes were fearful, and she, like a nervous tic, adjusted the orange flower atop her head to keep herself calm. She froze once she was halfway to Owen, and it didn’t look like she’d take another step forward.

Owen carefully lifted his hand to wave; Amelia flinched but held steady. “Hey,” Owen said. “Um… you’re Amelia?”

The Lilligant nodded. “A-and… you’re… Owen?”

“Yeah,” Owen said.

Star and Klent both stood to the side and didn’t interfere. Others were watching from the outskirts of the clearing—it seemed that everybody knew their history. Unsurprising—many of them probably witnessed it from within Klent.

“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “I… I wish I could’ve stopped myself back then.” He felt a pit in his stomach when he didn’t get any new memories from seeing her. He wanted to know what happened, and not knowing somehow made it worse.

Amelia nodded. “But… but you’re better, now,” she said. “Th-that’s good… I… I’m glad that…” The Lilligant shook slightly. “I’m glad that they aren’t using you anymore.”

“Y-yeah…” Owen shifted where he stood. “I hope I didn’t scare you when I attacked Azu. I don’t remember… what happened yet, but I know it scared Willow a lot.”

“I didn’t watch,” Amelia said.

There was a tense silence between them. Owen took in a breath, as if he was about to say something, but then breathed out.

“Are you… going to be like that again?” Amelia asked.

“N-no,” Owen said automatically. “I’m going to—I’m going to keep myself from doing that. I don’t want to lose control of myself at all, and I almost made it last time, right?” He looked at Star.

She nodded. “Almost there.”

“Then I’ll do my best, okay?” Owen said. “That way you won’t have to be afraid anymore. And even if I look big and scary, I’ll… still be in control. Right? There’s lots of scary Pokémon that are actually really nice.”

“Yeah, like Alex,” Star said. “Magmortar look pretty scary, but he’s as gentle as you can get. You saw him, right? The scary fire Pokémon that’s with Amia?”

“Y-yeah!” Amelia said. “I like him, even if I probably can’t get too close to his body…”

Owen grinned. “Y-yeah! I’ll be just like that.”

Klent’s eyes lit up imperceptibly. “Amelia, would you like to do anything else?” he asked. “Owen probably has to wake up soon, but we still have some time.”

Amelia hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Owen said. “I think I’m gonna wake up sooner than soon. I kinda feel it, you know? But maybe tomorrow night, we can do something. How’s that?”

Amelia nodded.

“Alright,” Star said. “See you, Owen. We’re gonna do some training today, maybe, or maybe tomorrow, before we go after the other Mystics. I’m gonna have Hecto try to monitor the Hunters and see if those Mods are going anywhere else. Until then, we need to hope that the Association’s scouting turns something up.”

“Right,” Owen said, but then looked down. It felt like his body was being pulled away somewhere, little golden pieces of light rising from his body. “I think I’m waking up.”

“Yep! See you, Owen!”

And then the Charizard vanished in a mist of orange and white.

Klent watched the mist dissipate. Amelia collapsed where she stood, alarming half of the crowd.

Star floated toward her and helped her up. “Hey, hey, that was really good,” she assured her. “How are you feeling, Amelia?”

The spirit nodded. “That was scary… but… he’s totally different. He’s…” She looked at Klent. “His eyes were sad.”

“Of course they were, Amelia,” Klent said. “Owen’s… sapient, right now. And hopefully forever. I guess Star was right after all. Maybe _this_ is the real Owen, and everything before was just… his instincts.”

“The line is pretty blurred,” Star said, “but if you want my opinion, I like this Owen better.”

Amelia laughed weakly. She slowly walked back to the bushes, mumbling to Klent what they could do when Owen came back again.

<><><> 

“Ugh… my head,” Owen said, sitting up. He was in the middle of the fire in the middle of his room. Wait, his room? His parents must have carried him back while he was asleep. And, he must have rolled into it in his sleep again. He groaned. The Charmander tried to stretch out the wings he didn’t have. “Ngh… that’s right,” he mumbled, disappointed.

“Owen! You’re awake?” Amia asked.

“Y-yeah!” Owen called.

“Star told me everything,” the Gardevoir said, rushing into his room.

Alex was somehow faster, and he scooped him up and pressed him tightly against his chest. He frantically mumbled something, asking if he was okay and if he was in one piece. Owen tried his best to look dignified. It wasn’t working.

“Ohhh, you were so brave, Owen! I’m so proud!” Amia said from the side.

“Nng—th-thanks…!” Owen said, kicking his legs helplessly.

Alex set him down. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through all that,” he said. “I didn’t think it would be that scary. Ooh, to say no to Arceus…”

“S-so, Mom said yes?”

Amia nodded. “A long time ago. It was a basic Promise, though—nothing like what he was asking of you. I just Promised to never have more than one Orb within me. I had no intention to, and, well, at the time… it was Arceus! I think a lot of Pokémon here would tell you a similar story.”

“Mm.” Owen looked down. “Well, I don’t plan to gather the Orbs, either. That would mean killing you guys. I doubt that’s what Star wants.” Owen paused. “Wait. But Barky—I mean, Arceus—I mean—ugh. What he told me was that he wanted me to just… give up my power. And when that didn’t work, to work under him. Not to Promise to not gather the Orbs or anything!” Owen shuddered. “Was he going to make me kill you guys?!”

“I doubt he’d do something like _that_ ,” Alex said, flinching. “I—I hope not. Star never said he was an _evil_ person…” He looked to Amia, who shrank uncertainly.

“I’d hope not!” Owen said. “He’s _Arceus_! He can’t be evil!” _Right?_ _Star, you there?_

No answer.

“Guess she’s busy,” Owen said.

“What was that?” Amia asked.

“Oh, sorry—I was trying to call for Star. Anyway, what were we doing?”

“Well, we were thinking about doing some meditation,” Amia said.

Owen instantly deflated.

“But,” Amia said, “we were also thinking about heading into Kilo Village to get some supplies for Team Alloy, since they still need to eat. But it’s a bit dangerous, considering Eon might be waiting for us if we left. We were going to split into two groups—half of us would go to Kilo Village for supplies for the rest of Team Alloy, and the rest would stay back here. That way, Eon can’t split us up.”

“Right, okay,” Owen said. “So, can I go to Kilo Village, then?”

Amia nodded. “If you want, dear. Rhys was also going to go, and Anam to check on the Association with Nevren. He’s still at the village keeping the paperwork flowing. Your friends are going to be meditating, though. They need it more than you do.”

“How about you?” Owen asked.

“Your mother will need to stay back to keep Kilo Village safe,” Alex said, shaking his head. “With Rhys and Anam gone, she’s the strongest Mystic here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Owen said. “How strong… _are_ you? Wait—and what about Manny? Isn’t he stronger?”

Amia giggled. “Well, he’s definitely a better fighter.”

Owen gulped.

_Hey, yo! Yes? Hello? You called?_

_Oh! Hi, Star! What took you?_

“Owen?” Alex asked nervously. “Is Arceus trying to…?”

“Oh—sorry. No. Star.”

_I was searching the spirit realm. Takes a bit of time to make my back to the Grass Orb._

_Oh, okay._

_So, what’s up?_

_Is, uh, I was just wondering, is Arceus evil?_

A pause. _That, uh,_ she said. _That’s a loaded question._

 _I mean, yes or no, is he evil?_ Owen said.

 _You can’t just…_ call _someone evil. It’s… I mean… c’mon. He’s my cosmic roommate. I know the guy. He isn’t_ all _bad; he’s just… warped._

 _Warped, huh?_ Owen said. _What was he gonna make me do, Star? If I followed his orders?_

_I dunno. What, you think I can read his mind?_

_…Yes?_

_Well, I can’t. Can barely read you guys; what makes you think I can read him?_

_Right…_

_Anyway, that all? I want to find the next Orb asap._

_N-no, that’s all. Thanks, Star. Sorry for bothering you._

_No prob. Gonna go now._

_Mm._

Owen noticed that his parents were staring at him. “Uh—sorry. Star says Arceus isn’t evil, just warped.”

“I don’t know if that’s any better,” Alex frowned, the flames on his shoulders dimming.

Owen sighed. “I need to take a walk, I think. I’m definitely going to Kilo Village.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “…Can Zena come, too?”

Amia and Alex blinked, exchanging looks. “Zena?” Amia said. “How come?”

Owen closed his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said. “Just a feeling.”

“Well, you’d have to ask her,” Alex nodded. “But if not, bring ADAM instead. He’s about as strong as Zena is, from what we can tell by his aura.”

“Okay, sure,” Owen said.

He ran straight across their dividing cavern and knocked at her home’s entryway.

“Zena?” he called. “Are you—oh.”

“Do you like it?” Zena asked. The Milotic was sporting a bag with a long strap that was tied around the base of the horn on top of her head. From there, the strap led down and behind her brow-ribbons to a bag that rested comfortably below her neck. “I’m not sure who made it for me, but it was too lovely to pass up. I found it in front of my home.”

Owen squinted. “Huh. That looks like Rhys’ handiwork.”

Zena’s bright expression dampened slightly. “Oh? Rhys?”

“Yeah. It looks great!”

“Mm. Well,” Zena nodded. “If you say so, I’ll gladly use it. Now, what did you want?”

“Want to come with me to Kilo Village?”

Zena flinched. “W-with you?” She rose with hope. “Just you?”

“Yeah! Oh, no. You, me, Rhys, and Anam.”

Zena’s stance lowered.

“H-hey, I know you don’t care a whole lot about Rhys, I think, but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Zena said, nodding. “I’ll come. Certainly.”

<><><> 

The enthusiastic Charmander took a deep breath, exhaling a plume of fire. “Ahhh, light! Sunlight!” He spread his tiny arms. “I hope I went out often in the past. I did, right, Rhys?”

“Mm, I believe so. You went on small-scale missions quite often.” Rhys looked down at Owen. “Do you remember any of that?”

“Not yet,” Owen said. “What sorts of missions did I take?”

“Simple ones. Lost item recovery, a thief here and there, troubled Pokémon, and the sort. But they were typically only for Provisionary-approved Dungeons.”

“Provisionary?” Zena repeated.

“Pre-Hearts, kinda. Kinda like an apprenticeship!” Owen said. “For… four hundred years… now that I think about it.”

“Hmm. Sounds like quite the career path,” Zena said absently.

“…Was… was that a joke?”

“Hey!” Anam suddenly said. “Look! It’s Nev-Nev! I’m gonna go catch up on Association stuff with Jam-Jam!”

And just like that, the Goodra and Decidueye were off to the Alakazam, leaving Rhys and Zena with Owen.

Zena watched. “Does it ever bother you that your leader is an adult hatchling?”

“Yes,” Rhys said.

“I dunno, I think it’s kinda cute,” Owen said.

Rhys sighed. “So long as Nevren and James can handle the complicated work, I do not mind Anam as a figurehead. I won’t deny his positive effect on Kilo’s morale, let alone Kilo Village itself.”

“Mm.” Zena nodded. “That, I suppose, is fair. Well, Lucario. You know your team more than any of us. What do they want for food?”

“Ah, I know just the place,” Rhys said, inspecting his bag of Poké to be sure they had enough funds.

Owen heard the jingle of coins, but then had a brief moment of panic, like he couldn’t see.

“Hm?” Rhys glanced at Owen. “Are you okay?”

“Uh—I don’t know,” Owen said, holding his chest. “I…”

Rhys stared worriedly, as did Zena. But then the Lucario’s eyes flashed with recognition. “Ah,” he said. “Not to worry, Owen. You might be reacting to your senses being so dull as a Charmander. Perhaps the jingle of coins made you curious how many there are inside. Would you like to see?”

“Y-yeah, please,” Owen said, reaching out to grab it. “Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding Zena’s confused stare. He looked into the bag and fiddled with its contents for a little while—a mixture of silver, gold, and shimmering coins. He made sure to get a glance at the very bottom, getting a glance at every small circle. Satisfied, he closed the bag and returned it to Rhys. “Thanks.”

“…Owen?” Zena said.

Rhys explained. “Owen has impressive perceptive senses, but they aren’t their best as a Charmander.”

“They were a lot stronger in the spirit world,” Owen said. “But I think out here…”

Rhys nodded. “It must feel like he’s blind, or walking in the dark,” he said. “Are you sure you’re fine, Owen? I can let you hold our funds, if you wish.”

“No, it’s okay. Let’s go!” He nodded. By some miracle, he remembered the name of one of his favorite stores. “And maybe after, we can stop by Sugar ‘n Spice?”

Rhys chuckled. “Of course,” he said.

<><><> 

Shopping was surprisingly easy. First, they headed down the road from the main Waypoint and advanced north. They went past the multicolored, old buildings that sold Dungeon equipment—some shops were now closed for an early-noon break while Heart traffic was at its lowest—and continued further down the paved roads. The further they went, the more developed the buildings became, transitioning from stones and mortar to bricks, and later to what seemed to be carved and colored stone of some kind. They only passed by a few Pokémon on the way. Kilo Village was eerily quiet, but it was only expected thanks to their odd time to visit.

They went into a general store for their main supplies, with foods of all kinds stocked on shelves almost as tall as Zena. The middle shelves immediately in front of them held things like berries, vegetables, and fruits. The outer-middle shelves had things like sugar, breads, and oils. The walls had strange, large tubs that contained meats, juices, and other perishables. A Froslass patrolled these tubs, radiating freezing air over them one by one in a routine cycle.

Near the front, a Tangrowth oversaw the shoppers, counting coins and bagging items in little, leafy pouches for customers to take home. He glanced worriedly at Owen, who gave a nervous wave back. His tail always made shopkeepers nervous. He had a pang of guilt whenever he looked at the Froslass. Based on how she hovered protectively over the produce… he had an idea why.

“No sneezing,” Rhys mumbled to Owen. He then headed to the produce section.

To Owen’s retroactive relief, nothing befell them in the market. Owen didn’t sneeze once; he kept his tail in check; and best of all, he convinced the others to buy a few Berry Pops from the frozen section to try later. Owen glanced back to see the Froslass and Tangrowth collectively sigh when he left. Pushing that to the back of his mind, followed Rhys and Zena to Sugar ‘n Spice next.

“Such interesting architecture,” Zena said, looking at the buildings. She had been politely silent while they went shopping, but Owen knew that she was trying her best to take it all in, and had been careful not to touch anything the whole time. “Why do the buildings change so much? These seem so much more… refined than what is near the Waypoint.”

“As the population grows, so does Kilo Village’s size. Thankfully, the crater of Kilo Mountain is quite accommodating. The outer buildings are more advanced because they were made with better technology.”

“Mm. A crater…” Zena eyed the distant, black hills. “And what if it floods?”

“We have runoff systems,” Rhys said, motioning to the dips in the roadsides. “Among other precautions.”

Owen walked ahead, eager to get to their last stop. His mind filled with fuzzy, vague memories and strong, precise feelings. There was something there that he really liked. Something _heavenly_ that they always sold. He had no idea what it was. He’d just have to look at everything until the feeling struck him.

“Eh?” Owen blinked, realizing that he was already there. “Wow, I walked fast,” he mumbled. The building was pink on the outside and a pure white on the inside. Shelves were lined with samples to pick from, though Owen was a bit too short to see most of them. Thankfully, a menu had been commissioned by some Smeargle long ago to illustrate most of the items.

It hit him. That was it! He stepped inside, his little feet making scaly taps on the marble floor.

“Hey, there,” greeted a Salazzle at the front desk, behind a white counter. There was a little tag on her chest that said ‘Sugar’ on it.

“Hi!” Owen said. “Um—give me a second.”

“No problem,” Sugar replied.

A second Salazzle peered out from the back-room’s curtains. Owen did his best not to gawk or flinch, but it was hard to ignore the gigantic, explosive scar that tore across her chest like lightning. She had ‘Spice’ written on her name tag in the same spot Sugar’s was.

Owen averted his eyes to be polite and said, “Uh, those. The cinnamon Pecha bonbons.”

“You got it,” Sugar said, giving Spice a nod. She headed into the backroom again. When Sugar looked back at Owen, she blinked, as if startled. “Oh! And how about your brother?”

“…What?” Owen asked, but then looked back. “Wh—"

A Charmander stood behind Owen, identical to him in height and build. The only difference was that this one had a green scarf wrapped tightly around his eyes, blindfolding him. “Oh, we’re not brothers. And I’d like ten of those, too,” the Charmander said. “Do you guys still sell Cheri chocolate?”

“Oh, sure, but it’s spicy,” Sugar warned.

“I know.”

“Cheri chocolate? Spicy?” Owen asked.

“It’s very good,” the other Charmander said.

“Oh.” Owen paused. Where were Rhys and Zena? He was sure they were right behind him… “Uh—hang on,” Owen said. “I need to check something. I think I lost the rest of my group.”

Owen walked around the other Charmander, but couldn’t keep his eyes away from him. That _nagging_ feeling got to him, but even without that, how could he react any other way? Another Charmander! This was amazing! He never got to—well, then again… perhaps he had before, and he just didn’t remember it.

Owen glanced outside but saw that nothing was waiting for him. The town was completely still in midday. Not even the clouds moved, and there wasn’t even a hint of wind. Owen sighed, spinning around. “How’d I…?” he mumbled, nervous.

“Something wrong?” Charmander asked.

“Um, my folks. A Lucario and Milotic. Did you see them around?”

“Mm, can’t say I have,” Charmander said. “Hey, if you’re waiting for them, how about I stay by you, huh?”

“That’d be great.”

“Something wrong, kids?” Sugar asked. “Lost your parents?”

“We’re not kids,” they both said.

Owen flinched, looking at Charmander. “H-hey, uh…”

Sugar shrugged and looked back to Spice, who came out with their orders.

Charmander walked over and paid for his piece, and then Owen realized he didn’t have money on him. He should have volunteered to take the bag after all. “Uh—hang on,” Owen said. “When my folks find me, they’ll pay. They have the money.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll pay,” Charmander said.

“N-no, you shouldn’t,” Owen said.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve got lots to spend. Besides,” the blinded Charmander turned back, “I feel like we should look out for each other, y’know? Same species and all that.”

“Oh, you two are adorable,” Sugar said. “Spice! Come here and look at how adorable these two are!”

Spice giggled, weaving out of the back-room. “I wouldn’t mind inviting both of them over to our place some time, Sugar.”

“N-no, thank you,” they both said.

The two Salazzle giggled.

“Say, uh, Charmander,” Owen said.

“Deca.”

“Deca, where are you from? I’ve never seen you before!”

“You haven’t?” Deca said coyly. “I think I’ve seen you around. You’re a Heart, right? Charmander Owen?”

“Yes! But, only recently.”

“Yeah, but I saw the ceremony. You looked awesome, actually!”

“R-really?! Aw, c’mon, it wasn’t _that_ grand…”

“Yeah, but you stood out the most,” Deca said. “Hard to miss that tail-fire, eh? We’re naturally pretty easy to spot.”

Owen tittered nervously. “Yeah, I guess.”

An awkward silence followed.

“Say,” Deca said. “Your folks, you said. A Milotic and Lucario?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not actually… sure where they went. I hope they get here soon.”

“Well, you couldn’t have gone _that_ far ahead. They should be here soon,” Deca said.

Spice walked over with two stools for the pair to sit on. “You two seem familiar,” she remarked. “Have we met before?”

“Have we?” Owen said. “I’m not… sure… H-ha, sorry. I have really bad memory.”

“No, we definitely met before,” Spice said. “Ahhh…” She tapped her chest thoughtfully. “ _Now_ I remember. You little bright-eyed idiot…”

“I-idiot?!” Owen said; Deca giggled.

“It’s no wonder Anam let you in after that stunt,” Spice said, wiggling a claw. “Aw, good on you, little guy.”

Deca adjusted the blindfold around his head. “Bad memory?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s getting better,” Owen said. “I guess I had some past trauma, but thanks to my friends, I’ve been slowly getting it back. It’s kinda a long story.”

“Your friends, your friends, right…” Deca said. “How many friends?”

“Oh, lots! We’ve actually been making a sort of mini-Heart team, kinda,” Owen said.

“And they’re all your friends?” Deca asked.

Owen nodded. “Yeah. I only met a lot of them recently, but they feel like family to me. It’s kinda funny how that works, huh?”

“It is, it is,” Deca nodded. “It sounds like you care a lot about them.”

“Yeah,” Owen said, but then caught himself. Why was he being so open with this random stranger? Even though he was a fellow Charmander, he shouldn’t be giving out this kind of information! But… Why did it feel like he still wanted to talk? “Hey, Deca. Have we met before?” He wondered why he was being so coy about it, if that was the case, unless he already _knew_ he had memory problems. Was Deca an old friend, too?

“We have,” Deca said. “I was just playing along because you mentioned you had bad memory.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Owen said. “Ugh, wow. That _sucks_. I have no idea who you are. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Deca said, tilting his head down as if to stare at his hands with his blinded eyes. “We didn’t know each other for very long. Maybe a few times we crossed paths, y’know?” He stood up. “I think your folks will be coming back soon. Can you hear them?”

“No,” Owen said.

“Oh. I guess those sharp senses of yours aren’t that good right now, huh?”

“I—I told you about that?”

Deca nodded. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad. Actually, I’m really happy I got to see you again, Owen. Glad you’ve got a lot of new friends. But… you seem worried about them.”

Owen winced. “I mean, kinda,” he said. “We’re in a dangerous business, you know?”

“You’re telling me,” Spice murmured, tracing the scar along her chest.

“Mm. I understand,” Deca said. “But I wouldn’t worry. If you’re with them, they’re bound to be safe!” He laughed. “…I’ll see you around, Owen.” He walked toward the exit.

“Wait…” Owen said desperately.

Deca stopped, turning back. Even with the blindfold, it still felt like he was staring at him.

“S-sorry,” Owen said, shaking his head. “Sorry. Don’t know what came over me there.” He laughed. “My head’s all kinds of messed up. I think I just like being by another Charmander, is all.”

Deca sighed. “It’s okay, Owen. Take care. Tell your friends I said hi.”

“You don’t want to meet them?” Owen asked.

“Can’t, I already gotta rush back home.”

“Oh. Okay. See you,” Owen said, but Deca was already gone.

Owen remained there, on his stool with his bonbons, for fifteen silent seconds. Did that just happen? Who was he? Why did he ask all those questions? No, why did Owen _answer_ all those questions?

“You know,” Spice said, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d’ve called him your long-lost twin. Who _was_ that?”

Owen glanced at Spice, then at Sugar. “I have… _no_ idea,” he said.

“He’s a lot like you,” Sugar said.

“Don’t be like that, Sugar. Just because they’re both Charmander doesn’t mean they’re alike. Look at us! A Heart and a confectioner!”

“OWEN!”

The Charmander nearly fell out of his seat. “Z-Zena!” Owen said. “Hi?!”

The Milotic barged into Sugar ‘n Spice, staring desperately at him. “H-how did you…?”

“Uh—I just walked?”

Rhys entered next, quick to scan the room with fierce eyes. Sugar and Spice both tensed.

“Is—is something wrong?” Sugar asked.

Rhys was silent for some time but then shook his head. “No. I apologize.”

“You practically _vanished_ from us,” Zena said. “One moment, Rhys and I were looking at one another to chat—it’s polite, after all—and I look back to see you, and you’re gone!”

“M-maybe it was a lapse in memory? Like, I get those all the time, apparently, so, I mean—”

“That’s hardly a normal thing to happen,” Zena said.

Rhys growled. “Owen, was there anybody with you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Owen said. “Another Charmander! Oh, Mew, he sounded just like me, too! It was surreal! But he looked so cool! He had a blindfold on, and it made him look totally awesome! Like—like if he stood in the wind, it would be all flowy behind him and…” Owen paused. “And, uh, I mean, it was nice to talk to him.”

“I see…” Rhys said. “Well. It looks like he bought you your sweets.”

“Y-yeah. He offered. Seemed rude to say no. I’ll pay him back next time I see him! Promise!”

Rhys sighed. “Of course,” he said.

“Oh, and he told me to tell you guys hi.”

“Oh, that was nice,” Zena said. “You must have talked now and then in the past. Perhaps you crossed paths during missions?”

“I think so,” Owen said. “He knew me. I just have to remember him. He didn’t seem all that mad about it, but…” Owen paused, rubbing his head. “Actually, hang on. This is starting to add up in a really weird way. I guess he’s just really eccentric…”

Rhys nodded, holding the spine on his chest thoughtfully. He sighed. “Well. My pulse is back to normal, at least. I thought you were in actual danger when we lost you. Thankfully… none of that happened. But I’m too nervous to stay here any longer, Owen—let’s return to Hot Spot.”

Owen nodded. “Sure,” he said, stepping outside. Just then, a gust of wind blew past him, and he had to keep his eyes closed so dust didn’t get in his eyes.

“Let’s be fast,” Rhys said. “The wind has been relentless ever since we left the market.”


	26. To Death and Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow expresses her doubts to Amia about what kind of being Owen really is, if left unaltered. With another morning, the Mystics begin some intensive training. Owen, during his training, learns about the true extent of what it means to push one's Mystic growth to the limit.

After the unnerving encounter with Deca in town, Owen had a gut feeling that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go out again for a while. Hindsight—after the thrill of meeting a fellow Charmander—suggested that even if Deca was someone he could trust, he wouldn’t want to endanger him with this Guardian business. He sighed at the thought. Just when he thought he’d be making a normal friend…

Why did that not settle right? Deca didn’t seem like a normal friend. He knew that for sure. He shook his head. It was a memory still locked away. A few days passed after that where they went back to their usual routine of meditating and training—for Team Alloy, it was to calm their auras for their inevitable evolution. For the Guardians, it was to continue their everlasting struggle to tune their auras with their Mystic spirits.

Owen almost fell into a routine on the third day and meditated with Zena the most often. Each day they greeted one another, sat nearby—or in Zena’s case, coiled up—and closed their eyes. Zena mentioned that this was what she did on most days when she was in her cave, but that it was much better now that she had company. Owen couldn’t understand how lonely it must have felt before.

On the fourth day, right when he was leaving his room, Amia approached.

“Owen, everybody else is gathering together for some training. The scouts at Kilo Village didn’t turn anything up yet and, apparently, Star hasn’t been able to find anything good in the spirit world, either.”

“Oh, okay,” Owen said. “What kind of training? Meditating again? Why’d you tell me if…?”

“Umm…” Amia rubbed the back of her head. “We’re going to be pairing off, actually. An advanced Mystic training a junior Mystic… so to speak.”

“And I’m… a junior Mystic? So, you’ll be training me?” Owen said, perking up. “That sounds awesome!”

“A-actually,” Amia said. “I… am going to be training Willow.”

“Oh,” Owen said. “So… Zena?”

“Zena’s going to be _trained_ by Anam, actually,” Amia said.

“…ADAM?” Owen said.

“ADAM and Valle are going to be sparring one another as fellow mid-tier Mystics.”

“W-wait, then who’s left?” Owen asked, mentally going over everyone in his head. “Wait! Am I gonna be trained by—by Rhys?!”

“No.” Amia sighed. “Rhys is going to train the other three.” She watched her son count on his fingers. “Owen… _Manny_ personally asked to be the one to train you.”

Owen felt the ice in his stomach return, this time from dread. “Y-you mean… the Fighting Guardian?” he said. “B-but I barely beat Azu…”

Amia shrugged slightly. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure Manny will… do something helpful.”

“C-can’t you ask him to maybe… not?” Owen said.

“Believe me, I tried,” Amia said, “but everybody else was in favor of it, dear. I… I couldn’t go against the majority. And they did have a point. Of all of us, you have the most potential to grow—and Manny knows how to do that. He specializes in training your… you know. Your kind. S-so, er… Let’s go!” She headed out.

“W-wait! Don’t I have to eat breakfast?”

Amia paused in her exit. “Do you?” she asked.

“I…!” Owen paused, feeling his stomach. “…I guess not. Huh.”

Amia smiled and led the way out.

<><><> 

“Hah! Th’ sleepyhead’s finally awake,” Manny said, clapping his paws together, making a muffled, furry pat. “Took long enough! Oy, did yer mom fill yeh in?”

“Y-yes! Um… but I kind of don’t want to die,” Owen said.

“Aaah, you’ll be fine,” Manny waved his paw. “C’mon! We’re gonna start with Azu like befer. Don’t worry, he ain’t gonna be scared this time.”

“S-scared? I scared him?”

“Yep! I hyped ‘im up, though. He’s good.”

Owen sighed, looking at Amia helplessly as if expecting her to change her mind.

But she just smiled and shook her head. “Good luck, dear.”

“Heheheh…” Manny walked down the rocky caves, deeper into the complex. It was a bit cooler where he was heading; Owen figured it would be easier for him to fight there. The Charmander hesitantly followed, wondering if Manny wanted to train him to help… or to get back at him.

“Um… Auntie Amia?” asked Willow, watching the Charmander leave with the rowdy Guardian.

“Auntie?” Amia repeated, looking down at the tiny Joltik. “When did I get that title?”

“I dunno…” Willow said.

Amia smiled. “Well, what did you want to ask, Willow? Before we get to training.”

“Is Owen gonna be okay?”

“Oh, Willow…” Amia sighed. “Yes. Owen will be fine.”

Willow hopped on one of the glowing, blue mushrooms, then another, and then stopped on top of a large one. She wobbled when the stem broke, the cap hitting the floor on its corner. “Y-you mean, you didn’t send Manny to assassinate him?!”

“O-of course not!” Amia said. “Why would—no! That’s not it at all! I trust Manny. He knows that Owen is stable as a Charmander. So… he won’t have to do anything like that.”

Willow sparked uncomfortably. “Owen’s scary when he…”

“I know, Willow. You were so shaken up,” Amia said. “I’m sorry you had to see him like that. But he’s nice now, right?”

Willow hopped off the mushroom, mumbling to herself.

“What was that, dear?”

“…Which one’s the real Owen…?” Willow asked.

“The real…?” Amia repeated, but then went quiet.

“If this way that Owen is now is just… him being suppressed… and sealing away his memories and stuff… and in the end, when he evolves, he becomes… _that_ … then who’s the real Owen? His suppressed form, or his…?”

It was as if Willow was pulling from Amia’s deepest fears. The Gardevoir was frozen in place.

Willow, oblivious, kept talking while staring at the mushroom’s dimming glow. “It’s like we’re only seeing a tiny part of him, and there’s this… this huge part that’s waiting to break out. And… and when that part comes… what’ll happen to this tiny Owen? If you’re tiny… you’ll just get squished. Who’s… who’s really Owen?”

The Gardevoir finally came to her senses. “The one we know, of course,” she said. “Owen used to be in control of himself all the time—but something happened… that made him—all four of them, actually—unstable. Like something didn’t… quite go right. So maybe the Owen you saw… wasn’t the real Owen, either.”

“What happened?” Willow asked.

“I wasn’t around to see it myself,” Amia said evasively. “So, I’m not sure. But—Rhys could tell you!” She nodded. “We… we aren’t supposed to talk about it. They might overhear, and that might trigger the memories. It’s too risky.”

Willow buzzed irritably. “Is Owen evil?”

“No! No, nothing like that. I promise,” Amia said, nodding.

Willow’s big, blue eyes stared at Amia. She huffed. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s train.”

<><><> 

Owen sputtered and coughed, feeling something crack in the back of his head. He slammed against the rocks and felt the entire world go dark. In what felt like an instant to him, his eyes shot open, gasping for air. He panted and felt the back of his head—no wounds, but he felt something crusted and caked on. He pulled his hand forward; dried blood fell from his scaly hands. “What—”

An Aura Sphere slammed into his chest, smashing him against the rocks again, dislocating his arm. He yelped and tried to find the source frantically, spotting Manny. “W-wait! That’s not fair!” he shouted. “I—I was fighting Az—”

A blue, scaly fist slammed into Owen’s stomach, pushing him even further into the wall. He was positive that a few of his organs had flattened against the back of his body from that one. He groaned and panted. “W-wait… t-time out…!”

Azu punched him near the center of his forehead, and he blacked out again.

Another instant in Owen’s mind passed, and he opened his eyes. “Wh-what?” he said.

He saw a fist going right toward him. Owen held his arms up in a cross—he blocked it in a shield of light. “Ng—” Even with the Protect barrier, the shockwave knocked the wind out of him.

“Eh?” Azu said. “Hey, look! The little guy blocked it!”

“Hah!” Manny said.

“Y-yeah…! I did!” Owen said, thrilled. “I blo—”

Azu’s second fist slammed into Owen’s chest, rupturing his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. The Charmander’s eyes bulged out—vision fading… He fell to the ground. He saw Azu’s tail swing toward him, slamming him into the opposite wall across the training grounds. Then, he blacked out completely.

And again, Owen’s eyes shot open. But this time, only slightly. He didn’t want to look awake yet. Through the thin sliver he opened, he saw two blue figures sitting nearby. Azu and Manny. They were staring at something on the ground. He focused… They were playing some sort of game with rounded pebbles. Owen breathed a bit too loudly, and the two looked at him. They both stood up.

“W-wait, p-please—” Owen begged.

Manny casually fired an Aura Sphere from his right paw. Owen reflexively opened his mouth and blasted a plume of flames. It slowed the attack but didn’t stop it, and Owen flew across the ground in a messy, rocky twirl, losing some scales in the process. He flicked his tail to alter his angular momentum just enough to get his footing. He landed on his feet and used his good arm to stabilize. Azu rushed toward him with a firm punch. He dodged to the left and countered with another Ember.

“Gah—” Azu turned around and swiped at Owen with his tail, trying to trip him up. Owen jumped and turned green, opening his mouth again. A huge vine shot from his throat, wrapping around Azu; he swung his head and slammed him on the ground. Azu grunted and broke free, but Owen turned orange again and the vines became flames, burning the Feraligatr. He chomped down, snapping the burning vine away to extend the burn even longer while Azu tried to pull free.

Azu struggled to his feet, panting. “W-well… that ain’t so bad…” he said. “Heh… the Charmander’s much better this time. It only took a few mortal blows.”

“C-can’t you tone it down a little?!” Owen begged, seizing the opportunity. “You could’ve killed me!”

“Ha-haaa!” Azu declared. “But we did kill you, Charmander! Quite a few times! In a technical sense.”

“Well, if yeh were a normal Charmander,” Manny said, “we totally would’ve killed yeh fer real. But yer Mystic. Amia said y’ weren’t eating. That’s th’ sign.”

“The sign?” Owen asked. “Not eating? Wait,” Owen said. “When was the last time that I ate…?”

Manny looked at Azu, but then flicked his head back. Azu nodded and disintegrated into a blue ember, returning to Manny. The Lucario motioned for Owen to sit down; he obeyed and, thankfully, Manny did as well.

“It’s like Star said,” Manny said. “Mystics… don’t get strong th’ same way normal Pokémon do. Eh… they _do_ , but their Mysticism, heh… it goes up in another way.”

Owen hesitated. It wasn’t his perception talking, just general intuition. Was he about to get an important lesson from Manny about Mysticism? He gulped. “Um, Manny,” he said.

“Eh?”

“You’re gonna explain to me a lot of stuff, right? You’re giving me a lesson?”

“Yeh.”

Owen shifted where he stood. “I… can’t understand what you’re saying half the time.”

Manny flinched. “E-eh, yeh, I figure,” he said.

“I’m—I mean, I hear it from Gahi, but for you, it’s—”

“Nah, nah, I get it.” Manny shifted awkwardly. “Feh…”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to understand! It’s just, I’m apologizing in advance if I have trouble with what you’re saying.”

“Nah, nah,” Manny said. “I got an idea. Hang on.” He shut his eyes, breathing deeply. For a split-second, Manny jostled where he sat as if he thought he was falling. Then, his eyes shot open. He stared at Owen, then at his paws, and then at Owen again. “Hello.”

“…Hi.” Owen knew this was someone different. “Did Manny just… switch places with one of his spirits? You can do that?”

“Mm, yes. My name is Yen. It takes a lot of energy to do this, but I suppose this would be easier for a lesson. I always was the better teacher, ironically.”

“Ironically?”

Yen chuckled. “Ah, just thinking. You’d expect Manny, as Guardian, to be better than me. In any case. You wished for an explanation on Mysticism?”

“Just a little. I’ve been going through the motions, but I don’t know what the motions are for. Does that make sense?”

“Very well.” Yen held his paw forward, creating a small Aura Sphere. Owen reflexively flinched and brought his arms in a cross, forming another Protect shield.

“Now, now, there’s no need to worry,” he assured him. “This is only for visual aid.”

“O-oh, okay,” Owen said. He lowered his battle stance, but only halfway. His muscles twitched, ready for anything.

The Lucario resumed. He held the sphere forward, and then faced his paw upward, like a stage. “Now. Let’s say this is the aura for the average inhabitant of Kilo. Not just Kilo Village—the whole world. Most Hearts reside in the crater, so that skews the average quite a bit.”

“Okay,” Owen said. It was about the size of a small apple, and about as bright as one of the mushrooms in his room, barely enough to illuminate it in the dark to see the walls. “Hey, is this like Nevren and Rhys’ whole theory on aura efficiency?”

Yen stared at Owen with an odd look. “Aura efficiency?” he said. “You’re aware of that?”

“What? Uh… I mean… kinda. Rhys is kinda pioneering the theory. And Nevren has this scanner that measures our… aura efficiency, or something, based on how much power we can dish out, and how fatigued we feel after. Last I was scanned, I scored—er—really high! For my species. Pretty high.”

“Hm. How interesting. Very well. We shall call it that, aura efficiency.” Yen continued with his explanation. “The more you use your techniques to fight others, or to simply train in other ways, the more you…” Yen watched Owen. “Your eyes are glossing over.”

“H-huh? No!”

“Hm. A book-smart Charmander. How interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Owen said.

“Well, I imagine Charmander would struggle to use books. The burning,” Yen said evasively. “Er, well, Owen. Tell me what you know, first. I can build off of your understanding. Does that sound fine?”

“Oh! Y-yeah, Rhys taught us this!” Owen said. “Basically… every technique that we do is actually channeling from the aura’s inner energy. The same energy that helps some Pokémon evolve, when our aura becomes strong enough. It’s like… a little bit of power that helps us do what we want it to do. Breathing fire, or weakening the enemy, or even making it rain! It’s all because of that power in our aura cores. We use that same power to resist what others are doing to _us_. So weaker Embers hurt less… because our auras deflect a lot of it.” Owen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I guess that means I still have a long way to go, if your host is getting me in just a few hits. I can’t deflect those attacks at all.”

Yen nodded. “Very good,” he said. “Efficiency is indeed how rapidly you can draw from that aura core.” The aura in his paw glowed brighter. “So… how does Mysticism come in?” He nodded. “Everyone’s core’s output is fixed. Once at full efficiency, you can go no further.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Once you’re fully efficient, you can’t really draw more than everything!”

Yen’s brow raised slightly.

“Y… you can’t, right?”

“Well, yes,” Yen said. “If you have ten apples, and your arms are large enough to carry twenty, you can only carry ten apples regardless.”

“…Why big arms?” Owen asked.

Yen waved his paw dismissively. “But _what if_ ,” he said, “you _made_ more apples? Different apples?”

“Uh—”

Yen brought his second paw forward and created something else—it wasn’t another sphere. It looked more like a blue, bright flame. It reminded him of the spirits in the aura sea that Hecto oversaw. “Hunters, Guardians, and the Creators all possess Mystic Energy. It’s similar to what you know, but it provides so much more.” He combined his two paws into a bowl-like shape, and the flare enveloped the sphere, creating something that Owen had to squint at to see. “Now, there’s more to get.”

“But it looks different,” Owen said. “It’s not just _more power_. There’s… it doesn’t…” Owen knew that much. The moment he became a Guardian, he already did something that no ordinary Pokémon could do—become a Grassy Charmander, humiliating as it was. Not to mention drown and survive. And apparently, in a little while, he was going to learn how to fly, too, just like his mother. “That power doesn’t feel… solid, like our aura powers normally.”

“Mm. So, you mean it isn’t defined?”

Owen nodded.

“That’s because it isn’t. Not quite. _Normal_ energy is defined. You can only do certain things with it. Flamethrower… Aura Sphere… they’re defined techniques, crafted by Star, I imagine, for mortals to access controlled versions of the divine power inherent in all Pokémon. But Mystic Energy? Quite broader. Yes, it may be easier to perform certain actions—for example, become an embodiment of your Orb’s Type—but then… because it is not defined, you can get _creative_ , with enough skill and power. Indeed, after enough time training, you practically become a spirit in the flesh.”

“A spirit… in the flesh,” Owen said, pinching his arm thoughtfully. The scales held their pinched shape slightly along his elbows. Owen made a mental note to drink some water later.

Yen nodded. “Guardians can bend reality just a _slight_ bit more… dynamically, harnessing the same power that the Creators used to craft the world.”

Owen gulped. “That’s… not what my power feels like at all.”

“You’re still weak,” Yen said. “And it’s not as if we have any significant portion of that power on our own.” He shrugged. “At most, you can easily change things about yourself, and perhaps the area immediately around you. With the little amount of undefined energy provided by a single Orb, you cannot go beyond that sphere of influence. Still, you can certainly hone its intensity…”

Owen blinked. “How?”

Yen went on. “As Star said, Mysticism is not strengthened the same way the traditional aura is. You must connect with your core directly by performing actions that affect your flare—powerful emotions, deep meditation, and, ah… almost dying.”

“A-almost…?” Owen said.

Yen chuckled. “Well. Once you reach a certain point, nearly dying does not become viable. Diminishing returns. Still, so long as we don’t hit you _too_ hard, it’s a very effective method for weaker Mystics to become stronger. So, we can ‘kill’ you all we want,” Yen smiled apologetically, “and you’ll come back. Consider it… an at-death experience. Right up to Dusknoir’s Door, hm? But then you turn around and return to the living. But every time that happens…”

Yen showed the flare dying down and rising up, dying down, rising up, stronger and stronger each time. “You tap into that power a little more. Make your arms bigger to grab hold of those apples.”

“Again, with the arms… Do you guys have a thing for arms?”

Yen shrugged. “Once you have full access to your Mystic power through this method, you can meditate to hone the specifics and refine it. That is what most of the mid-level Mystics, like ADAM and Zena, are doing at this point. You are still catching up.”

“S-so, at first, to get full access to my power as a Mystic, I need to… die. A lot. And after that, I can work on actually improving it?”

“Yes! Well, to get there the fastest,” Yen said. “Still, I recommend you fight back. Mysticism is strongly tied to desires, and the desire to fight back can accelerate the process further.”

“But why do I need to die for that? How come all of those things with emotions, and dying, and meditating—that’s all with the aura, too, right?”

“There is a key difference,” Yen said. “Normal training. That’s how the body and the mind connect to the aura, which itself channels the _defined_ power, provided by Star.” Yen closed his eyes. “Mysticism, you can’t rely on that defined connection. It is not your body to your aura. Mysticism is tied to something deeper than the aura—to the very _source_ of your power _._ This training is for the connection between your aura and your _soul_. Something normally untouchable. The body and the mind are the outermost layer. Then, there is the aura. And within the aura is your soul. _That_ is the true source of power. The aura is just a filter on what that power can do. Mysticism… weakens that filter.”

“The… soul,” Owen said. He hadn’t realized it until just then, but without any fighting in this part of Hot Spot Cave, everything was silent. He could hear his own little heart struggling to beat. He hadn’t realized how broken his body still was. “Sorry,” Owen said, realizing he’d been silent for too long. “Before all this Guardian stuff, I didn’t even think Star was real, forget the soul. I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“I understand,” Yen said. “Manny and I were the same way. Take your time.”

Owen nodded, but then gathered his bearings. “What’s… the difference? The aura and this… _soul_ thing.”

“Ahh…” Yen’s tail wagged twice in a slow, rhythmic motion. “How nostalgic, that question.”

Owen waited patiently. His eyes were bright with curiosity—but, more importantly, the longer he could stall, the longer he could catch his breath.

“The soul… it’s an interesting concept. It’s something that I learned about a long time ago. Old, old culture. Something you can’t quite see. Something you can only feel.” Yen looked up. “The inner aura. The source. Where _you_ are. What stays when everything else goes. That… is the soul.”

“Isn’t that just the brain?” Owen mumbled. “I read books on this. All that stuff is just the brain.”

“Well, er, I suppose, physically,” Yen said, his momentum completely interrupted. “B-but it isn’t as if you’re carrying your brain with you in the aura sea, hm?”

“…Good point,” Owen mumbled. “What stays when everything else…” he repeated. He thought about the aura sea. His body dissolved there. In the spirit world, like the Grass Orb’s realm, or the ethereal forest, he was an aura—a spiritual form that looked like his body. But in that strange void, even that body dissolved away. He was nothing but his aura flare. Yet _he_ was still there.

Owen looked at his hands again, as if they weren’t real. He sighed. He should have become an academic. Or maybe it wasn’t too late to become a farmer as his father had suggested.

“The connection…” Owen said again. What could that mean? It didn’t sound like Yen knew the full extent of this ‘soul’ business. Perhaps Star did, but Yen just saw its effects. Still, one thing was clear: Yen, and by extension, Manny, were looking for results, and what he was doing supposedly made Owen’s Mysticism stronger.

“So, you’ve been ‘killing’ me all this time to… make my aura closer to my soul? Or to make my Mystic power connect to it better. So, by dying, and meditating, and having these emotions, that speaks to my _soul_ , which the power of the Orb can let me… harness?” He paused. “Wait. This sounds more like you’re just making my aura unstable so more ‘Mystic’ leaks through!”

“Yessir.”

Owen flinched. It was Manny again. Based on the smirk the Lucario gave him, Yen must have either lost hold of his control or relinquished it upon completing his explanation. Owen missed him already.

“…Couldn’t you have _told_ me that?!”

“Nah, bein’ scared an’ fightin’ fer yer life? That builds th’ spirit, too.”

“That’s…!”

“Well, enough talkin’,” Manny said, cracking his neck. “Y’know what I’m doin’.”

“W-wait, bring Yen back, please, I—”

“Nope!”

Manny fired that Aura Sphere he was preparing straight at Owen, and the helpless Charmander hit the wall once again.

<><><> 

Willow screamed in the blue flames that surrounded her. In an instant, they died down; the smoldering Joltik twitched and opened one eye. “What?” she coughed.

“Y-you were screaming,” Amia said, shivering.

“And you stopped?!” Willow said, hobbling to her tiny feet. The very tip of the fur on her tiny body was still on fire; she shook, ridding herself of most of the ash, and the flame went out.

“Y-yes!” Amia said. “Because it… it looked like it hurt!”

“Of course it hurt!” Willow said. “But we’re training! Don’t stop!”

“B-but, Willow, you’re half-ash at this point!” Amia said.

“But I didn’t pass out, so let’s keep going!” Willow said.

“I—I can’t do this,” Amia said, turning around. “I’m sorry, I just—ow!”

Willow zapped Amia with a bolt of electricity. She sped toward her. “Don’t you _dare_ stop now! You’re way stronger than me, and I want to get to that level, too!”

“B-but, I can’t, Willow, I just…!”

“What kind of Fire user are you? You can’t even go full-force!”

“I—I’m just… I’m just not a fighter, Willow. I’m strong, _yes_ , but…! But this is too much! It’s torture! I can’t—”

“Keep fighting!” Willow said.

“B-but you’ll die!”

“I won’t die!” Willow said. “So… stop being so weak!”

“I—I…!” Amia gulped.

“DO IT!”

The Gardevoir shut her eyes and blasted Willow with another flurry of flames. She tried to dodge, but the blast radius was simply too large. She screamed and collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

“I—I can’t do that! I can’t!” Amia said, covering her eyes.

“Wh-huh? Did I pass out?” Willow coughed a cloud of ash.

Amia was trembling and had to sit down. “It’s too hard to hurt friends! This kind of training is… is too much!”

Willow shook away the soot from her body and skittered toward the Gardevoir. “Mnngh…! I can’t believe you! All that power and you’re afraid to use it!”

Amia covered her face. “I know, I know…”

Frustrated, the Joltik shook her fur and started creating little sparks. Eventually, however, she settled down in a huff.

It was a quiet part of the cave. Manny was still beating Owen to a pulp a few corridors down. Owen was screaming for help. Manny just laughed.

“Scared of your own power…” Willow repeated. “Maybe that’s where he gets it from.”

Amia watched Willow with concern; the Joltik could barely climb her dress, but she managed it. She sat atop her lap.

“…If someone like you raised Owen…” she trailed off. “…and if he took on even the _littlest_ fraction of how you are…. I see why you think he can overcome that battle instinct he’s stuck in.”

Amia flinched. She bit at her lower lip and tried to stay calm. At least this was giving Willow some time to look less charred. “Y-yes,” she said. “I’ve shown Owen… a lot of love. And he’s been so gentle… So, he’d surely be able to… overcome it.”

“I think he can, too,” Willow said. “…He’s too nice.”

“Y-you think so?” Amia said.

Willow nodded. “…So… you aren’t gonna beat me up?” she asked.

“I… I don’t think I have it in me,” she said, lowering her head. “I’m sorry…”

Disappointed, the Joltik turned around. “Then I guess I’ll train with them, instead,” she said, turning to look down the large cavern. In the open area, the group was locked in combat.

ADAM and Valle were sparring with one another. At similar strength, they grew together almost as rapidly as the weaker ones who were trying to catch up. While the Porygon-Z was not able to have much of an effect with his Normal attacks against Valle, the rocky Shiftry was not quite able to hit ADAM as easily due to his lack of movement.

“Well, um… okay,” Amia said. “I’m sorry that I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” Willow said. “At least we have someone who can tell us to not get so angry, right?”

Amia gently touched her chest. “Oh…” she said softly. “…Thank you, Willow.”

And with that, Willow dashed toward ADAM and Valle. She hopped in front of a Hyper Beam, blocking most of it, but screamed nonetheless. Amia tittered; that tiny Joltik really wanted to work hard…


	27. A New Sighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of training, Nevren comes with news of a new possible Guardian to find. A small group sets out in an attempt to peacefully include this newcomer to the group--however, due to the nature of their mission, not all goes well.

For the next few days, the Mystics in Hot Spot cycled between training and resting to the point where they lost track of time. In the caverns, there was no real way to tell if it was day or night, especially since Amia was usually the one to keep track of that with the glow of the mushrooms. With her preoccupied with training with Willow—and later, cycling with the others—they were only able to determine how many days passed based on how often Team Alloy—sans Owen, at least—came back from daily missions.

Owen had asked time and time again to go on a mission with Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi, but it was always shot down with the fact that he still needed to train. Not only that, but after the strange encounter with Deca the time before, they were hesitant to send him out again to be lost in town. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all said they didn’t see Deca around after that. He couldn’t argue back, since he still had to train.

Owen was glad to finally get a break from Manny’s _method_ of training, and on the previous day, he had trained with Zena. This was short-lived. For some reason, Zena wasn’t able to fight at her best against Owen. The Grass Guardian figured it was because of his Type advantage in his Mystic form that unnerved her, though Zena couldn’t find the words or explanation on why this was the case herself. She did know, however, that it wasn’t because of his Type. For some reason, when Zena and Owen asked Star why they weren’t able to hurt each other effectively, the Mew just rolled her eyes and floated away.

So, instead, Owen returned to reluctantly training against Manny, and Zena instead challenged Anam when he was available and not managing the Association with Nevren.

Zena was barely able to open her eyes after every strike that Anam delivered. She felt powerless against him. Her watery attacks weren’t very useful against a Dragon type—let alone one that was so gooey like Anam. “Anam—are all of your kind like this!?” Zena said.

“Like what?” Anam asked, holding his hand out to block most of her Hydro Pump attack. That simple gesture split the beam of water in two, missing the rest of him completely.

Zena panted. “So… immune to water!”

“No, but I’m a little different because I’m Mystic. I like being like this!”

“Extremely… slimy? You have the consistency of a Muk, Anam.”

“Aww, thanks!” Anam giggled. “But I think I’m a little thicker than a Muk,” he rubbed his cheeks. His fingers sank into his face, slime merging into slime.

Zena, seeing this as an opportunity, launched yet another Hydro Pump at Anam. The Goodra gasped, swallowed a bit of it, and then fell back. “Owowow…” he mumbled, rubbing his head. “Good job! I didn’t know you could use Flatter!”

“I—I can’t,” said Zena. “…Anam… are you taking this seriously?”

“Seriously?” Anam repeated. “Of course I’m taking it seriously! I mean… I need to train you, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Zena said. “But I haven’t seen you use your Mystic powers much at all. Your Ghostly abilities, that is. I’ve already exhausted my Water form against you…”

“B-but it’s scary…” Anam said. “It’s not just spooky Ghost powers, it’s—it’s a lot of things, you know?”

“That’s…” Zena shook her head. “Can’t you just use a _little_ bit of it, then? It can’t be _that_ bad.”

Anam bit his lower lip helplessly. “O-okay. I’ll—”

A muffled voice echoed from Anam’s thigh. “Hello?” the voice said. “Anam, are you there? I have a report!”

“Oh! Nevren!” Anam said. “Um—Zena, hold on!” He plunged his hand into his thigh and pulled out one of their silver communicators. “Hi, Nevren! Do you mean there’s a report about a possible Mystic sighting?”

“Yes,” Nevren said. “At first, we believed that the Mystic that once lived in Nightshade Forest was relocated or otherwise… removed, but we found new sightings in the depths of it. It’s very likely that the Electric Guardian is still there after all.”

“Electric Guardian? That’s cool!” Anam said. “Okay! I’ll go and gather the others right away! Um—any other sightings?”

“None yet,” Nevren said. “I am still coordinating other scouting missions based on preliminary reports and rumors.”

“Got it,” Anam said. He nodded at Zena. “We’ll train later?”

“Yes,” Zena said. “…Perhaps I will train with someone else for now. I do not think I should go to this particular Mystic, considering my Type…”

Anam nodded and ran to get the team together.

<><><> 

“Nightshade Forest…” Star said, shivering slightly. “Talk about bad vibes.” Everybody was gathered in the middle of Hot Spot Square. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were all having a small snack in the middle of their training, all panting from whatever regimen Rhys was putting them through.

“Don’t like Dark Types?” Owen asked, amused.

“H-hey, it’s not my fault! That’s instinct! N-no offense to any Dark Types or anything, I just… you know. It’s a little unnerving to go there, sometimes, since a lot of the wild Pokémon are Dark Types and they _love_ defending their territory.”

Anam nodded. “Star doesn’t like my power, either,” she said. “But it’s okay! I don’t have to use it yet. Um—I can go, though!”

“That’s a good idea,” Star said. “I’m going on guesswork, but the Electric Guardian… she can scare easily, last I checked on her. But that was a long time ago. Really jumpy, so you can’t have any scary people or sudden movements.”

“Feh, guess I’m out,” Manny said, shrugging.

“No sudden movements?” Owen repeated. “I mean… I can probably go, if I move carefully.”

“You don’t look that intimidating right now,” Star agreed. “As long as you keep calm, you’ll be fine.”

“How about us?” Demitri asked.

“Ehh… maybe not,” Star said. “Let’s stick to Mystics for this one. Enet, the Guardian, might be able to read auras—and I think she’ll only really trust Mystic auras.”

“Hmm, well, if that’s the case, I guess we can’t go…” Demitri sighed.

“There’s no need to worry,” Rhys said. “We can continue to train here.”

Star surveyed the group. “So, we’ve got Owen and Anam, who else wants to go? Amia?”

“Oh! I can, definitely.”

“Amia’s definitely great if we need a friendly face!” Willow said.

“Three should be good enough. Four might be overwhelming for her,” Star said. “So, that’s the plan! Just make sure you guys have a communicator with you in case something goes wrong, either here or there, okay? Oh, and be careful. She’s a Zoroark. Don’t trust your eyes.”

“How’d you know about all this?” Owen asked. “We were looking for a while!”

“Actually, Nevren pointed out the possibility. I personally thought this Electric Guardian didn’t last, and Eon already took the Orb. She’s totally silent to me. But I did some asking around in the spirit world, and it doesn’t look like she died after all. So…” Star sighed. “I guess it could’ve gone faster, but we didn’t want to send you guys out unless we were totally sure. This time, we are. I know she’s in Nightshade Forest.”

“Nightshade Forest…” Owen mumbled, rubbing his head. “That sounds… really familiar…”

“Don’t think too hard, Owen,” Star said.

“Right,” Amia said. “So!” She clapped her hands together. “Are we ready to go?”

“I guess so,” Owen said, stretching. He was already recovered from his training with Manny—and he felt quite a bit stronger from it, too. How much stronger, he didn’t know. He’d have to test it out—if this Electric Guardian happened to lash out at him, perhaps that would be his test.

<><><> 

Nightshade Forest was a place where, true to its name, barely any sunlight reached the forest floor. The trees were far apart, but the tops were filled with wide tops and leaves, high above their heads. If the wind blew hard enough, little flickering lights would illuminate the ground, but it would be fleeting. There were simply too many leaves blotting out the sky. Owen and Amia relied on their fire to light the way.

“It’s really spooky here…” Anam said.

“Anam, please, you’re the Ghost Guardian,” the Gardevoir said. “Wouldn’t you be right at home here?”

“I—I guess so, but… it’s still a little spooky! What if there’s a monster hiding in the bushes…?”

Amia, baffled, glanced at the Goodra, the strongest of their group. “Anam, dear, aren’t… _you_ more likely to be the monster hiding away?” she said. “From what Star briefed us, the strongest Pokémon here are about as strong as Owen was when he last became an Entry Heart.”

“W-well, um…” Anam said.

“Actually, yeah,” Owen said. “Anam, we don’t really know what your powers look like at all!”

Anam gulped. “Th-that’s because… um…”

“Owen has a point,” Amia said. “As the Ghost Guardian, don’t you think you—”

“You should not press Anam with such things if it isn’t necessary,” Anam suddenly said, eyes closed. His voice had changed.

“…J… James?” Owen blinked.

“I don’t like when they do things like Scary Face,” Anam mumbled., voice back to normal. “It makes my heart go all thump-a-thump!”

Owen and Amia exchanged an uneasy glance. Owen figured now wasn’t a good time to press the issue, but a new thought crossed his mind. “Do you even have a heart anymore?” Owen said. “Zena mentioned you just got… stabbed while fighting ADAM, and you were just fine…”

“Metaphorically!” Anam said. “But I guess so… Maybe I shouldn’t be so afraid… Are we there yet?”

“Hmm…” Amia looked at their Badge. “We’re supposed to make it through the halfway point of the Dungeon, followed by three segments of the next part. There, we should see a hidden passageway, invisible to all but the aura eye… That’s what Nevren told us. And from there, we have to see if the Electric Guardian is still present. I certainly hope she is…”

“I hope so, too,” Owen said. “I don’t want to lose another one just because we couldn’t find them fast enough.”

They walked for a bit longer. Amia inspected the Badge; it flickered briefly. “We’re in the Deepwoods,” she announced.

“Mm…” Anam said. “Can you tell Nevren and the others we’re okay?”

Amia nodded and grabbed their communicator next, speaking into the badge. “Are you there? We’re doing okay. We just made it into the Deepwoods. Does Star or Nevren happen to know where specifically we should be looking once we get to the third section?”

A pause. Then, Nevren said, “No, only to look for Mystic residuals. It shouldn’t be hard to miss for your current Mystic powers, yes?”

“Okay, got it,” Amia said. “Um—thank you. I’m going to stop talking to this now.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Amia stared awkwardly at the device and placed it back into her inventory. “That’s still a strange device. Where did Nevren even get the idea for something like this?”

“Nevren has a lot of crazy ideas,” Anam said. “But they’re really cool, too. Did you know that he’s starting to make these special devices that can keep food cold for a long time? And you won’t even need Ice Types, either!”

“Oh, wow,” Amia said.

“Yeah, it’s really cool,” Anam said. “I wish I had his creativity, getting all those ideas…”

“Nevren’s really like that, huh…?” Owen said slowly, thinking about the Alakazam. “He must have been really creative to come up with me and the others, huh?”

“Yeah,” Anam said. “I think you guys are really cool, too!”

“Y-you do?” Owen said. “Even if I…?”

“Well, once you guys are in control of yourselves… you’ll be all-cool and not scary at all!”

“Maybe a little scary,” Amia tittered. “Just like your powers, Anam. You can control it, but you’re still scared of your Ghosts!”

“Th-that’s not fair!” Anam said.

For just a second, Owen saw little lights in the green orbs that lined the Goodra’s neck and tail. It was as if the spirits within Anam were laughing. The Goodra blushed a deep purple and covered his eyes with his fat antennae.

A calm silence followed for some time until Anam suddenly stopped walking.

“Uh—are you okay?” Owen asked, looking back at the Association Head.

“Um—what’s that?” Anam asked, pointing down the corridor.

To the normal eye, it was just a hallway. But to the aura eye there was something in the right wall that gave off a faint glow. “Hmm,” Amia said. “So that’s what Star meant. It must be a burrow of some kind.”

Amia carefully stepped toward the wall and tried to move some of the rocks aside. Her hands passed right through the wall. “Wh—” Amia looked at the others. “It’s… it’s an illusion.”

“An illusion?” Anam said.

“Well the Electric Guardian is a Zoroark,” Owen theorized. “They’re great at illusions, and maybe her Mystic aura is amplifying it. Her name was Enet, right? Star mentioned that a while ago. I think. Just a feeling, actually, so maybe I’m not sure…”

“Y-yes, Owen, that’s right…. I barely remembered that,” Amia said. “A Zoroark…?”

“We should be careful,” Owen said. “For all I know, she might be able to mess with more than just sight and sound. Maybe she can mess with all of our senses, right? …Guys?” the little Charmander turned around. They were gone. Alert, his tail-flame grew bright. “Oh… good. I hope they heard me.”

Owen sighed and closed his eyes, trying to focus. It was incredibly dark. If it wasn’t for his tail, he wouldn’t be able to see more than a foot ahead of him, even with the dim, Mystic glow. Still, he had a vague recollection that he wouldn’t need his eyes if he could just use his perception abilities to _feel_ the world around him. It was a shame, then, that as a Charmander, those powers were almost completely sealed.

The burrow was big enough for even Anam to step through, though he’d need to crouch down for it. That left a lot of room for Owen to walk through the tunnels; he decided, for now, that the best thing to do was go forward.

 What could he do to counteract the illusions? He still didn’t know the extent of her power, but he could at least try to navigate forward again. There was a wall. He tried to step through it—and it worked. Owen smirked slightly. He saw another wall and walked toward it—and then, through it. “What, is it just a straight shot?” Owen said.

He kept walking. This time, he saw a pit ahead and no other way around. “So, it’s a fake pit,” he said, and kept walking. He stepped on the air like it was solid ground. He felt soil beneath his feet. Another illusion.

He cleared the pit and advanced. It seemed like a straight line from then on, with a clear exit ahead of him. So, Owen stopped. He looked down at the ground and saw a stone nearby. Gently, he rolled it across the ground. It fell into the floor a few paces ahead. “Figured,” he mumbled. This time, it was a _real_ pit, covered by a false ground.

Owen tried to hold his arms out to touch either side of the wall, but his tiny Charmander body didn’t have the span to do so. But he knew one of these walls were fake at _some_ part of the hall. He couldn’t risk going too far ahead for just one side, and alternating between the walls would take too long.

“C’mon, there has to be something I can use in here,” Owen mumbled, rummaging through his bag. He spotted Nevren’s Eviolite and lingered over it, admiring its gentle glint against his tail’s fire. Then, he fiddled with a few seeds, wondering which one would be helpful. None. “Hm?” He pulled out a small bundle of sharp sticks. “Oh, these things,” he said. He never really had to use them, but it didn’t hurt to carry them around to scare off ferals. They doubled as short-lived torches if his tail wasn’t enough. But now? He had an idea.

He grabbed two of the sticks, holding one in each hand. Then, he stretched his arms out as far as he could. It was just enough. Perfect! Owen held his arms out and dragged the ends of the stick along the right side of the wall, taking tentative steps until he couldn’t feel a floor. He stopped and felt the left wall—and, indeed, the wall was false at a small portion of it, and he stepped through. All as planned.

Owen then tripped and, in a single misstep, fell forward and lost control of his surroundings. He yelped and helplessly grabbed at the walls, but it was too late—he saw something down below. Spikes, even harder and pointier than the sticks that he had lost the second he fell down.

Desperate, he turned to his Grass form and tried something new. His claws became vines and latched onto the soft walls, anchoring him in place on either side, dangling in the middle of the pit. He should have done that in the first place, forget those useless sticks!

The spikes below looked… quite sharp, yet also unused. He gulped and looked up. “H-hello?” he called. “Anybody…?” The walls were soft and absorbed most of the sound. Without an echo, Owen figured his voice wouldn’t carry very far. He was on his own.

Or, so he thought. _Owen? Are you okay?_ Klent called.

 _O-oh! Klent! G-good to hear you! Um… no! I don’t think I’m okay,_ Owen replied.

 _You seem to be… a bit stuck,_ Klent said.

_Yeah, I think there are a bunch of illusions here. I can barely see now that I’m Grassy. My tail doesn’t glow as bright. But I can’t turn back to normal without losing my vines—there are spikes down there. I’ll get skewered if I fall!_

_Only spikes?_ Klent asked. _Hmm… Well… you can try to climb up,_ he said. _But if you fall, you should be okay._

 _O-okay?! I’ll look like an Aron’s face if I fall down there!_ Owen said.

 _Well, you’ve already been through worse with Manny, haven’t you?_ Klent said.

_W-well…_

_Just focus,_ said Klent. _If you focus, you’ll be able to take the spikes and then get out of here in one piece. It won’t even hurt. Maybe. Okay?_

 _I, uh, if you say so,_ Owen said. It made sense. As a Mystic, injuries weren’t as significant anymore, even if they were mortal wounds. Still, his physical-body instincts were telling him that spikes were bad. He had to push past those. He closed his eyes… slowly, his breathing steadied, and it felt a lot like his pace when he was meditating.

 _Now… drop,_ Klent said.

Putting his faith in Klent, Owen released the vines and fell. Owen briefly wondered if Klent was just telling him this so he could feel what it was like to die. He tensed for only a moment. And then, he relaxed, in that split-second of falling. If he had to feel that, he deserved it.

He fell for less than a second and hit the ground. “Uff—” he stopped and didn’t move, hesitant to open his eyes. But he had to. He looked at his chest… no wounds. He checked the rest of him—nothing. “Oh, come on!” Owen shouted.

It was just another illusion.

“Okay, _now_ I’m a little irritated,” Owen said, advancing. He felt something strange behind his head and rubbed it. “…That was weird,” he mumbled. It felt like a tingling on his scales.

A loud crack—and Owen was pushed forward with a searing, powerful explosion. He yelped and tried to turn around, but he only saw a glimpse of what appeared to be a dark, furry creature rushing toward him. Red claws. He knew to duck, narrowly avoiding the strike. “W-wait!” he shouted.

The creature hissed and turned around, fleeing. Owen turned back to his normal form; the light from his fire revealed that it was indeed a Zoroark. It could have been another illusion, but it was his only lead. He chased after her, careful not to trip over anything along the way. The pit seemed to be a hidden floor of the burrow.

It was hard to tell what was what—but this Zoroark was still ahead of him. All he had to do was run a little faster, and—

The Zoroark vanished. “Uh—” Owen was struck behind the head. He fell forward with a grunt, clutching where he was struck. “O-ow! D-don’t do that!” he shouted. “I’m trying to help!”

Dizzy, he saw her running in the opposite direction.

“W-wait!” Owen shouted, running along with her. He suddenly fell down and into a pit of false spikes again. Despite this, he crossed his arms for a Protect, but there was nothing to block. It only wasted more time. He scrambled to his feet and turned his arms green, improvising. He plunged them into the soft walls, extending through the soil. “Yes!” Owen said. He felt his arms extend like vines into the walls and out on the opposite side of the hall where Enet had run, blocking her path.

Good—that meant she wouldn’t be able to advance, and he could try to—

Enet sliced her claws through the vines, breaking them cleanly apart.

“AAAAAAAAA!”

Owen retracted his vines into his arms, only to see that a few of his fingers were missing. “ _Ohhh_ , that hurts,” Owen mumbled, holding them under his pits.

 _You probably shouldn’t have put pain receptors in those,_ Klent said.

 _I can do that?!_ Owen said. _Tell me next time!_

_I didn’t think you’d try…_

Owen whimpered, turning one of his fingers into a vine to grab an Oran from his bag. He popped it in and let the healing aura rush through him—and thankfully, into his fingers, where the tiny things quickly grew back.

“Thank Anam’s blessings…” Owen mumbled, staring ahead. Enet ran off… How was he supposed to catch up to her now? A Charmander’s stubby legs would never be able to catch up to a Zoroark. All he could do was yell and hope she heard, even in the soft, sound-absorbing walls of her den.

“ENET!” Owen yelled. “WAIT!”

Owen rubbed his throat. “I need to get used to yelling more,” he mumbled, coughing. He walked briskly down the hall and over the vines that Enet had sliced through. He turned the corner and saw Enet running right toward him. “Eep—!” He didn’t expect it to be that quick. “Enet, I—”

Enet pounced on him and bit him on the shoulder. Owen roared in some strange mixture of pain, fear, and annoyance. Reflexively, he brought his arms together before she could do any further damage, sending a shield of light out to push her away. The Zoroark jumped off of him with a rude kick to the barrier and bounded in the opposite direction again.

“Ugh—she can’t get away,” Owen mumbled. “Enet!”

But then—to Owen’s surprise—the Zoroark stopped. For a few seconds, she didn’t do anything. Didn’t turn around, didn’t keep running.

Owen slowly got to his feet, the bite mark Enet left on his ill-defined shoulder simultaneously massive and shallow. It’d heal on its own. “Th-that’s your name, right?” Owen said, tentatively prodding at where Enet bit. Bruised, but that was all. Despite being a Charmander, he was becoming quite durable! He wondered if he should be worried at how he was becoming accustomed to the regular maiming. “Star told me about you, Enet. You’re… you’re the Electric Guardian, right?”

Finally, she faced the Charmander. The Zoroark stared at Owen with wide, fearful eyes. She was crouched, ready to flee, powerful muscles tense for immediate action.

Owen stood awkwardly. “Um… so, I don’t want to hurt you, okay? The other two who were with me—Anam and Amia? We, um, we wanted to take you someplace safe. It’s okay. And… it’s rude to bite people.”

Enet stared at Owen without even an ounce of recognition or realization.

“Um… Enet?”

Her ears flicked at her name. Owen, in the dim light, was able to get a better look at her body language. She was panting, anxious, and she couldn’t understand anything beyond her name, based on how her ears twitched at it and nothing else. He saw that sort of stance for her body type often. But it couldn’t be… could it? “Enet… are… are you… are you a wild Pokémon?” he said. Was that even possible?

But the more he looked, in the silence of her complex burrow, the more it made sense, The Electric Guardian was feral.


	28. Special Episode 2: What You Deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin of Enet's Guardianship unfolds during a great thunderstorm.

_He stared up at the clear, blue sky through blurry eyes. Claws dug into the dirt. A little voice echoed in his mind._

_“Hey, Ra, listen. I’m really sorry you’re feeling lonely, and I get it. Can’t you just meditate for a while longer?”_

_Meditate. It’s what she always asked for. And for what? For what purpose? He was already strong enough. There was no point… “I have been meditating for centuries, Star. Please… I just… I just need somebody to talk to.”_

_“What about your spirits?”_

_Ra shook his head, rubbing at one of the giant scales that covered his arms. “It’s not the same… it’s… it’s like I’m…”_

_“Okay, okay,” she said delicately. “I’ll think of something, Ra. Just for you.”_

Lightning shattered the sky.

Four Pokémon, all of Fire, struggled through the unrelenting rain. Thunder deafened all of Nightshade Forest’s inhabitants. Wild Pokémon fled in all directions, all but one. The lightning struck the ground around this lone feral, the strongest of Nightshade. The one that he had been watching grow since it was just a little, talented hatchling.

Another bolt of lightning struck only a few feet ahead of the feral. She stopped and turned in the opposite direction, fleeing frantically.

“Ra! STOP!” Star cried, her misty form clutching onto his arm.

“Your words are MEANINGLESS!” he roared back, shoving her away. He slammed his scaly arms against his chest, causing another thunderous boom; at the same time, the sky shattered again, sending bolt after bolt into the ground. Rain covered the Kommo-o’s scales. Electricity danced at the end of his tail and sparks flew across every large plate of his body.

He could see them. He could see them through the clouds he conjured. His body vanished into electricity, surging upward and into the sky. The inky darkness gave way to white, blinding bolts.

From above, disembodied and one with the clouds, the Electric Guardian stared down at the scattering forms of the forest. The fire grew where he wanted it. The ferals fled. The rescuers went in for the weakling stragglers. It was all just a dance of struggle. A dance he had long since overcome—an existence that he wanted nothing more than to abandon.

Memories echoed in his mind. Words that cut him more than any claw would.

_“Hey, Ra! Look at that little lady, eh? She’s a little uggo, but I think she’s your type. Eh? Eh?”_

_Ra wasn’t sure what ‘uggo’ meant. Apparently, Star found someone of his ‘type.’ What exactly did that mean? Another Dragon-Fighter?_

_“You understand why I am skeptical.”_

_“Ugh, just go in the clouds. Check it out. I bet you’ll like what you see.”_

_Ra humored her. He closed his eyes, focused, and turned his body into electricity and created storm clouds above him. He looked down, eyes widening. He wasn’t expecting that—an Aggron?_ That _was his type? That was nothing like his Type! But… now that she mentioned it, there was something more. What was it? Ra looked closer. “Star… her aura…”_

_“See, I knew you’d like her! Now go warm her icy heart.”_

The world trembled. A Charmander struggled through the rain with a Bulbasaur over his shoulder, meeting with a Delphox and his team. After an exchange, they separated, the Salazzle of that team advancing further ahead, and the Charmander stubbornly following. Where was the feral? He found it, much farther away, running in the wrong direction again. He sent another bolt of lightning down. That was enough to get the wild Pokémon to scramble closer to his location. Perfect. He ignored Star’s protests and watched his home burn.

_“Ouch!” Aggron flinched away, putting her claw in her mouth as if it would help. “You sparked me! How rude—are you not able to control your Electricity at all?!”_

_Ra shrugged indifferently. “I warned you. You should have been more careful.”_

_Icy mist frosted the ground around her. “Insolence! What kind of potential mate do you consider yourself?!”_

_The ice did not make Ra flinch, even as it crawled over his toes. “A very strong one.”_

_The ice stopped. Aggron glared at him, crossing her arms. “Incredible.”_

They found a Jolteon next. Oh, is that what they were doing? Rescuing the Pokémon from the forest? Of course they would. He wasn’t surprised at all, knowing the way the Hearts operated. He watched them try to save the little creature, shooting down more lighting just to spite them. The Jolteon, distressed and burned, burst with electricity in all directions, paralyzing them both.

Oh, and who was that? Yes, yes. He saw someone. But what was it? It was too difficult to tell from this far up. Should he come closer? No. He saw it now. He saw the little flame on his tail. That flame seemed to appear out of nowhere. Charmander! Another one! It seemed he was catching up to the Salazzle and her stubborn companion. Yet his aura was quite strange. Even from here, he could sense it. What an odd Charmander. Their auras—both of theirs—felt suppressed, but in different ways.

Where was that feral? There she is. Yes, keep coming. Closer, closer. She’s just what Star deserves.

They nearly had the Jolteon awake. They were too close to Ra, though. If they got too far into the forest, they would certainly find him. And then what? She might even get a proper minion out of them. That wouldn’t do. Static formed in the clouds, ready to shoot down and into the trees. This time, he wouldn’t miss. The Charmander. That same Charmander that carried the Bulbasaur to safety. That light in his eyes. How _irritating_ to see. He’ll snuff out _his_ aura first.

Ra took aim. A bolt of lightning went straight for the little thing—but, midway through, by the sheer randomness of electricity in the rain and over the forest, it diverted and gravitated straight for the Jolteon instead. The Salazzle was fried right through her back. Perhaps Jolteon attracted the electricity. How inconvenient.

His power was fading—he had to land to recover some of his energy. He took a few fleeting seconds to check on the feral. Closer, closer. She was still going blindly in the right direction, right to him.

Ra landed back in the forest with a rough grunt. “Perfect,” he muttered.

“Ra, stop this! Why?! What did I do?! I’m just trying to—”

“You _know_ what you did,” Ra said.

“I _don’t_!” Star said. Her tiny, transparent hands grabbed the Kommo-o’s giant scale on his left shoulder. “Please! Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it! Okay? I’ll fix it! I can, I promise!”

Ra stared at Star, glaring a hole through her head. Thunder boomed above—whether that was from a latent surge of his power or the natural momentum of the weather, he did not know or care. The rain splattered against his scales, drowning out the sound. He could barely hear Star. The rain, too, passed through her body, only briefly slowed by her presence.

“Please, Ra,” Star said. “You know I can’t read your mind from here. Is this about…?”

_Ra and the Aggron sat next to each other at the edge of the forest in a rare moment of serenity. The Hunters seemed to have calmed their activities lately, and he sensed no odd auras in Nightshade Forest. The sunlight was a welcome sight._

_“I have to comment, Ra,” she said, “For someone who follows Mew, you’re quite Arceus-like.”_

_Ra squinted at her. “And that means?”_

_“Hmm…” She crossed her arms, making a deep, metallic boom when they hit one another. “Why do you like Her more than Him?”_

_Ra twisted his face into one of concentration and uncertainty. “That’s… a difficult question, Step.”_

_Step’s frozen face expressed her skepticism through her eyes. “Oh? More difficult than ‘Do you love me?’”_

_Ra looked to the ground instantly. “Ngh…”_

_If_ _Step’s metallic face was capable of smirking, Ra was sure she would have. Instead, he felt it in her voice. “Indeed. You said I should be more direct. I am granting that wish.”_

_Ra taunted Step with his own smirk. “Hmph. How silly. That’s an easy one to answer.”_

_“Oh?”_

Ra reached out and grabbed Star’s tiny, transparent body by the chest. His massive claws easily wrapped around her whole form. He pulled her close, staring into her eyes with a gaze so piercing, he was certain it was giving her a headache. “Your incessant need to _fix_ things,” he said, “is itself what must be fixed.”

He slammed Star’s body into the ground. She cried out in surprise when his claws pierced her gut, cleaving through her ethereal form like pudding. With another swipe, the Kommo-o sliced her aura in half. She evaporated away, returning to Ra as nothing but a blue ember.

He didn’t spend too long relishing the feeling of finally making Star disappear, if only for a few seconds, on his own terms. Every second counted. Ra closed his eyes, ready to become the clouds for the last time. He could feel his power fading. Everything that kept him alive… fading. It wouldn’t be long now. A sick smirk spread across Ra’s face.

“Fine,” he said. “I guess this is it, Star. I’m done with this. It’s time I give you someone more… _appropriate_.” His body crackled again, electrical arcs dancing over his scales. He shot into the clouds and looked down. Still on target. She was coming right into his abode. He had to act fast. He took one last glance at the two Charmander. They were running toward the Nightshade Forest Dungeon. Now, why would they bother with that? They must have been trying to save the doomed in there.

He felt the smallest ounce of hope that those two would be able to help them. Two Charmander, saving those that got trapped in the Dungeon? The fire would burn them up. But maybe, just maybe… Ra grunted, shoving the thoughts away. He already created the fire. There was no stopping it now. He had already decided what to do. Now, he had to put it to action. He had seconds to spare. Ra fell to the ground one last time and spread his arms wide. Five blue embers shot out in all directions, manifesting themselves into similarly crackling spirits. “Bring her here!” he shouted.

They all nodded and bolted into the shadows. Ra watched them for a few seconds, listening to the thunder boom. He closed his eyes again, ignoring Star’s pleas to stop. It was too late for that. His power was already waning, and he was surely attracting the Hunters here at the same time.

“She’s coming,” Ra said. “It’s time… it’s time, it’s time, it’s time…” Despite how long he’d thought about this moment, his heart was still pounding. Something primal, he imagined. Self-preservation. A Dragon’s pride to live through any struggle. But he was past that. He had ascended into being Star’s little demigod long ago. But now, with so much of his power unnecessarily exerted and depleted just for a single freak storm, he felt mortal again. Just a little bit mortal.

It was wonderful.

And now, he was ready to take full advantage of his mortality. He closed his eyes and felt the sky charge above him. The world flashed and lightning finally struck him—straight through his spine, into the ground. He collapsed instantly, and his vision and hearing were gone completely. But he could still feel. He felt the pain of the electricity rocketing through him, the charred scales and flesh of his mortal body. The tense muscles spasming from the charge. He grunted and convulsed—somehow, his hearing returned, though not his sight. Or perhaps it was simply too dark to see. He heard his own breathing. It was raspy. He tasted something metallic. Something was partly missing in his mouth. What was it? Oh, it was probably his tongue. He must have bitten it when he had been struck. No matter. He was still _alive_ , and that was _irritating_.

Even with his ringing ears, Star’s pleading was the loudest of all. He refused to listen. He couldn’t believe how durable his mortal body was. Could he stand? He heard Star’s voice in the back of his mind.

He knew physical pain. He knew all sorts of physical pain in his long life. But in his isolation, the few mental wounds he sustained cut deeper than any battle wound. His immortal body healed from those.

Regrets lasted much longer.

_Step twirled on her feet with newfound grace. She wasn’t an Aggron, but instead a fellow Kommo-o. Star helped teach her how to use her Mystic power to change into something else, just like Mew were capable of. While it was incredibly difficult and taxing to do, especially out of her Type, Step was strong enough to handle it._

_“Ra… Are you sure?”_

_Ra nodded. “I’ve never felt so sure about something in my life._

_Step raised a paw to her chin in concern. “Star warned—"_

_“Star has been wrong before,” Ra said quickly. “About a lot of things, apparently. So, I am sure. There is no need to concern yourself with a dead god’s warning.”_

_She stared at Ra, sighing. “Very well. If you’re so sure… we shall try, just once.”_

_“Twice.”_

_Step widened her eyes and then smirked. Ra liked her smile in this form. “Twice? How eager. Am I that desirable?”_

_“I want two.”_

_“Ra, did your Dragon culture never teach you how to speak to a lady?”_

_Ra pondered this. He realized his error. “I would like to have two, please, Lady Step.”_

_Step’s expression did not change. “You… are hopeless.” Yet she approached him anyway, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their muzzles touched, and shortly after they were cheek to cheek, chest to chest, tails entwined._

The Kommo-o was still alive. His claws dug into the dirt. He slowly stood up, trembling, shaking with pain and electricity still jolting through his body. His power was almost completely gone. All that was left was the residual power of his spirits. They were persisting enough to guide the wild Pokémon his way. But if he was alive when she arrived, the whole plan would be pointless. He’d have nothing to give her.

He felt something in his chest. He realized only seconds later that it was his heart, struggling to beat. But it would last too long. His Dragon pride refused to let him die, even now. “Cursed power… even as a mortal, I’m too strong for myself…” he wheezed. “No matter… I only need… to…” He raised his right hand up, claws clenching. “Star…” he said, barely able to hear her begging cries. “This is for you.”

His claws lit up with blue, dragon fire. His claws lengthened with that blue aura and he hesitated—for just one second, he hesitated. But that was all he spared for himself. He took one last breath.

_A Jangmo-o lay crumpled on the ground with labored breathing and an open wound on her side. The little Dragon tried to move, but one of her legs was bent at an odd angle._

_Ra watched with cold indifference. “You’re still weak. Try harder. Stand.” He cleaned the blood off of his claws with a flick._

_Step—an Aggron again—watched with an open mouth. She shook her head, stepping toward him. “Ra, you’re going too hard on them!”_

_A second Jangmo-o stood trembling next to the first, bleeding one. She nuzzled her side desperately, but she only whimpered in reply. She stared up at Ra. “Dad! Stop! Cent’s bleeding!”_

_“Pops… it hurts…” Cent said weakly._

_Ra narrowed his eyes. This was the way that his kind trained. Nothing more, nothing less. He wasn’t going to break from tradition. They were Dragons. Such injuries were trivial. “Hmph. I shall not repeat myself.”_

_Cent gasped for air. “Kana… I can’t… breathe…”_

_Ra shook his head. It looked like he was going to have to be tougher on them. If they were going to be this weak, the Hunters would make quick work of them if they ever crossed paths._

_“Ra, love, STOP!” She grabbed Ra’s arm, holding him firmly._

_Ra stared at Step, baffled, and then looked at his two daughters. Barely, his eyes softened. But what burned into his memory the most was her cold glare. He’d never forget it._

Claws plunged into his chest.

“GHHAAAAAAAAUUUU—”

Ra couldn’t scream after half of a second. The pain was immeasurable. He forgot what it was like to feel that mortal sort of pain. As a Guardian, he always dulled it. But with his powers almost completely faded, he had no such luxury.

That meant it was _working_.

Ra pulled his claws out, convulsing. His mouth tasted nothing but metal. It was too dark to tell what he had pulled out, but it felt very important. He tossed it aside. He wanted to go again. _He wasn’t dead yet_. He had to keep going. He couldn’t hear Star anymore. He couldn’t hear anything. It was odd. That pounding in his ears had been so persistent seconds ago.

In that last, fleeting moment, Ra felt something new and warm—no, _hot—_ inside his chest. And it was one of the few things that lit up the stormy night. He recognized that cursed glow. The dim, yellow glow, like his soul—but it was anything but. If anything, it had been his soul’s prison. The Electric Orb. It had returned, no longer finding any use in its host.

With the very last of his strength, Ra brought his hand into his chest and pulled it out; blood fell away from its smooth surface easily. He gave it a weak toss forward—it was all he could manage—and fell backward with a smile on his face.

_Ra stood in the small den that they called their home. A humble burrow in Nightshade, lit only by Mystic power. Step was opposite to him, by the entrance. Behind her, where Ra could not see but could only sense, were Cent and Kana._

_Ra gulped. “I’m… sorry.”_

_Step’s intense glare didn’t let up. “She’s never going to fight again, Ra. You traumatized her. They aren’t like you.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_Step shook her head. “You cannot forget about mortals, Ra. This Guardian business… your silly Dragon traditions… you’ve lost touch with how reality is for them. They aren’t like us, Ra. They aren’t. We’re from another era. We need to acknowledge that.”_

_“I’m… I’m sorry.” His voice trembled._

_Step sighed. She turned around. “Ra… I need to go. They can’t see you right now.”_

_Kana peeked in from the side to look at him. Ra made eye contact. She quickly flinched and hid away._

_Step turned around. Ra stared at her metal back. “Please… Step…”_

_“No, Ra.”_

_“Please…”_

_Step’s head lowered but she didn’t turn around. “I’ll… visit.”_

First, there was pain. Then, numbness. And after a while, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. His mind wasn’t working as it should have. With so little blood, he was starting to hallucinate. Strange figures filled his unseeing eyes. He thought he saw Star with her arms outstretched, golden wings waiting to greet him. But he knew those were hallucinations. They weren’t really Star. Because he knew Star. Star was _not_ going to greet him with such a smile.

And then that, too, faded to black. For a few fleeting, precious moments, Ra didn’t think. He was only there, or perhaps not there, with his final thought being that he had succeeded. And then, like being disturbed from a great slumber, he opened his eyes.

“Bother me, will you?” Ra mumbled to the world. He lifted his arm. He felt weak all over. Every movement felt like a chore and—in a brief moment of panic—he thought he was alive again. He felt his chest—it was intact, but it felt unreal at the same time. And then he looked down.

It was his body, still bleeding a bit, though most of it had drained away or pooled in the great hole he had left behind. His body spasmed a few times, flexing the claws. The tail twitched randomly. One arm even made an odd motion toward the chest, pressing down. Ra smirked. Even when he was dead, he still persisted. Or perhaps it was some quirk of the body that he did not understand. He didn’t care to learn. Instead, he looked at his fading claws. Yes. Without a body, his aura was rapidly dissolving. His time was fleeting. But he had to persist. He wanted to see it happen. He _had_ to.

And so, the bodiless aura waited. He was sure that his solid spirits would be fading soon, too, now that their source of power was gone.

There she was. Ahh, it was wonderful to see her up close. He never had the opportunity. It was a bit ironic he had to be dead to see her, but that didn’t matter. He looked down. The Electric Orb glowed faintly a few paces away from his body. He saw the fading spirits chasing her down.

Zoroark were such clever creatures. They made illusions that could fool entire populations, should they become skilled enough. Quite a few precautions were needed just to not be fooled by one. This particular Zoroark was the most talented of all of Nightshade Forest, able to shift whole clearings into her personal darkness.

But she was also feral. And that was _perfect_ for Star. A well-deserved Guardian indeed. The five spirits were closing in, wise to her illusions. No matter how talented she was, she was still feral, following instincts and easy patterns. He and his spirits knew her habits like the back of their claws.

Dead claws! Ra felt another swell of spiteful joy at the thought. But he had little time to celebrate again; she was finally here. The spirits drew her straight into the middle of the clearing, and she was running right toward the Orb. Her eyes flashed with interest, and by some intense curiosity, she went right to it and picked it up.

She promptly collapsed a split-second later, tumbling into the dirt. Ra blinked. He thought it would be a lot harder to coax the feral to touch the thing. Still, that made the rest of their job all the easier.

“Ra!” one of his spirits said. “You did it?!”

“Yes!” Ra grinned. “I am finally finished. You may return to the Orb if you wish… but…” he stared at his claws. “But I believe I am ready to leave.”

“Shouldn’t we help her to the Core?” asked one spirit.

“What’s there to help?”

“Star will try to stop her.”

“And leave the Orb exposed?”

“There is no telling.”

Ra growled, thoughtful. Yes. She _might_ try that. “Very well,” he said.

And while his aura was barely able to hold its form, he floated to the orb and plunged his cloudy arm into it. The rest of him followed.

_“Pops?”_

_Ra jolted out of his meditation. His head swiveled around until he saw the Hakamo-o, the between-state from the budding potential of their lowest form and the proud form of Ra’s final stage. His chest rose and he eagerly stepped toward her._

_“Kana! Oh—hello, Kana. How is your mother?”_

_He looked to the right for the berries that he’d been saving for when they visited, but then realized, just by the look, that they were rotten. It had been so long… He hoped that Kana didn’t notice. But he followed her eyes. She had glanced at it, but then looked away. How polite of her, ignoring it for his sake. How embarrassing. He should have remembered to replenish it. It was polite to give mortals food, right?_

_Kana shifted awkwardly. “Mom’s the same as always… Can’t visit her as much since it’s so cold, but…”_

_Ra nodded, clasping his claws together in thought. He nervously picked at his claws, hesitant to ask the next question. So, he substituted it with another. “And Cent, how’s she doing with her hospital work?”_

_“Good,” Kana replied simply._

_“That’s good, that’s good.” His throat felt dry. “Will… they be visiting soon?”_

Ra gasped for air that he did not need. He stared into the black heavens. There was no light from that starless sky, but he could still see his arms. They weren’t lit by any mystical glow. The ground itself was aglow with sparks of white electricity coursing through damp, puffy clouds, somehow solid enough to walk on.

He knew that clouds did not normally operate this way. Yet by Star’s whimsical magic, they behaved as such in this place—the Electric Realm, Thundercloud Temple. Another surge of electricity danced harmlessly past him, lighting up his massive, plate-sized scales from below.

He watched the surge move across the clouds and toward a great cluster in the center of a lumpy, gray field. White sparks coursed through the strange structure like blood, revealing its building-like architecture. It had five spires—four corners and a tall center—connected at the bottom by walls that formed a square. The Core was in the center of the lower floors.

“Ra!” a spirit called.

The ex-Guardian—the very thought thrilled him—spun around, grinning. But it wavered when he saw the huge, shelled Pokémon’s urgent look.

“What?” Ra asked the Turtonator. His shell was an electric blue with sparks dancing across the edges.

“We have to help the Zoroark! Star’s trying to stop her!”

“Oh, _perfect_ ,” Ra hissed.

The Turtonator struggled to keep up, but Ra understood that he’d just have to race ahead. As a reflex, he tried to sink into the clouds as electricity. Then the reality hit him—as he was no longer Guardian, he could no longer Electrify. He was a foreign entity in this Orb, just like Zoroark. He had to go on foot.

“Why can’t _you_ Electrify?” Ra shouted back to Turtonator.

“Star’s aura is disrupting it, or something,” he said. “Keep trying! It’ll distract her!”

“Ngh, so she truly intends to kill her, just to keep her from becoming the new Guardian?” Ra said. “Doesn’t she realize that if the Orb is unguarded, _anybody_ could get it? I at _least_ gave her the charity of picking the forest’s _strongest_ feral.”

Turtonator puffed a few times, his entire shell wobbling with each step. He struggled over the soft clouds, tripping over himself. “Ungh—go on ahead, Ra! You’re much faster! You—”

Ra wasn’t even listening. He just kept running.

“Y-yes, well… don’t worry about me or anything…”

_Ra heard someone stumble toward his hidden abode. He sensed her aura before and used little pulses of electricity to guide her closer. But she was so slow… and her aura, so weak. He stood up with concern when he realized her pace was at half the pace it usually was._

_“Cent… what happened? You look so different!”_

_Indeed, half of the Kommo-o’s scales were missing. Large plates, gone. What remained looked faded and ready to fall like autumn leaves._

_“What’re you talking about? It’s called aging, Dad. You should try it some time. Actually, no. Don’t. It’s pretty rough.” She shifted her weight uncertainly._

_“But your scales…! They’re falling away!”_

_“I, uh, look, I’m getting it checked, alright? Don’t worry about it.”_

Up close, Thundercloud Temple towered over Ra. The door’s entrance alone was as thick as his body and went across seven of his full arm spans. The entrance also rippled with distorted light—within, it was going to be the Orb’s Dungeon. But it was nothing he wasn’t familiar with. Without stopping, Ra went straight into the temple. The moment he did, the doorway behind him snapped into a wall. Clouds shifted and softened in some places and materialized and hardened in others instantly. His entire surroundings had changed.

And Ra stopped. “…No,” he said. “What is this? What happened? What—”

The ground below him swelled. Solid clouds liquefied into some strange, cold mush, electricity coursing through his body. He jumped away, body trembling on its own from the surge. He wasn’t an Electric Guardian anymore—and as much as he liked that, it meant he would be vulnerable to the electricity. He didn’t have time to acclimate to its atmosphere. He was just a normal Kommo-o spirit. He had to be careful. He wasn’t sure what happened to unacclimated spirits that perished within an Orb. Normally, Electric spirits returned to the Core to recover. But he wasn’t Electric yet. Where would he go?

Still, it was too late to turn back. He was within the Dungeon. The only way through now _was_ the Core. But what _happened_ to it?

Thundercloud Temple used to be a blessed Dungeon, like all the others in the world, physical or spiritual. Benevolent Mystic energy coursed through it, providing useful boons to travelers such as blessed berries and trinkets. Even in the Orb, such things existed within Dungeons to assist in safe travel. It also helped to stabilize the Dungeon’s architecture in and of itself. Hallways and rooms, connected to one another, leading from one segment to the next. Mystic energy created such layouts so it was easy to navigate.

But now?

Ra saw the wall behind him collapse, revealing another room. In it, a great fissure in the clouds revealed a black void below. Ra did not want to imagine the fate of someone who fell into it.

He sank partly into the ground. The clouds below him softened. He had to move before his fate to the void became a reality. He spun around and ran, realizing that the Zoroark must be in here somewhere, too.

Thundercloud Temple was a single-segment Dungeon. Apparently, that was how the spiritual Dungeons operated. Intuitively, the Core was near the middle. He looked up. Could the Core be above? Or is it on the first floor? Where were the stairs? The Temple had stairs leading up and down in a multi-floor labyrinth. The path was never the same. He often went into it to clear his head, as the monotony of walking combined with the thought of remembering his path helped distract him from his troubles.

The ground shook again. He just needed a _sign_. He closed his eyes, but then realized he had no means of sensing aura anymore. It was as if a part of his vision was forever lost. How can he be dead, yet still feel like a mortal?

_Ra didn’t know what to think of his new surroundings. It was a miracle that he was able to navigate his way to the mountain at all. Waypoints were such a strange, disorienting technology._

_An Aggron glared at him. “You shouldn’t have come to Kilo Village, Ra.”_

_“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”_

_She shook her head. “Love… why would—"_

_Ra jumped. “L-love? You called me…?”_

_Step answered Ra with a long silence. She avoided his eyes, glaring at the walls of the hospital. “A slip of the tongue.”_

_Ra deflated, looking at the opposite wall. “…I just wanted to see her.”_

_“And risk your life?” Step asked, glancing out the window as if she’d see a Hunter right there. None came._

_“Her life is worth more.”_

_Step grunted, gently knocking her fist against the wall. It felt a fist-shaped dent. She quietly scooted her body so it’d block anybody from seeing it._

_Step sighed slowly, her breath whistling past her metallic jaws. “…You… foolish idiot. You… foolish…”_

_“You came, too, you know.”_

_“I detest our similarities.”_

After some wandering, being careful to avoid the voids in the clouds and the ground that looked questionably soft, he saw his first sign of life. A Manectric dashed right past him, skidding to a stop. His paws tossed up hazy vapor.

“Ra!” he said.

“Where is the Zoroark?”

“Further in—or further out? I don’t know—the temple, it keeps shuffling. It’s in total chaos!”

“Why?!”

“I think Star disabled all of the blessings. It’s not a blessed Dungeon anymore—it’s—it’s just pure chaos! I don’t think it’s even an untamed Dungeon. I think it’s _cursed,_ not _blessed!_ I—”

The clouds between them shot up, straight through Manectric’s abdomen. It was so quick and violent that it went straight through him, and his front half was separated from his back half. Cyan embers poured from his body.

He gasped in surprise, but then stared up at Ra. “I last saw her running that way!” He pointed his paw to Ra’s left. “Star’s trying to kill her!” And that was all he could say. The embers overtook him and his body evaporated. The remaining puff of existence flew at high speeds further into the Dungeon.

He had to follow it—his spirit was being drawn to the Core. If he followed Manectric, he could at least get closer—at least until he was too far to see. Ra sprinted as fast as he could, tripping over softer lumps on the ground.

Bolts of electricity surged through his legs with every step. He wasn’t sure how he was able to keep walking through it, but perhaps some residual part of his Electric past helped him through the pain. He saw another aura ember move past him and used that as another lead, jumping over a forming fissure before it became too wide to cross.

“The Dungeon is falling apart,” Ra muttered. He looked back. “No. It’s already fallen. Now, it’s just… shifting…”

He heard a yelp and knew immediately who it was—the feral. He finally made it. And he saw someone else there, too—an unmistakable, pink figure flying across the distorted halls. The walls parted ways for her easily, and Ra suspected Manectric’s theories were correct. Star had cursed the Dungeon, all to prevent Zoroark from getting to the Core.

“STAR!” Ra shouted.

The Mew jumped. “R-Ra?!”

Ra slammed his fists against his chest. The reverberations weakened his stance—he knew that he’d be more vulnerable to her—but he was going to do it anyway. He was dead. What more did he have to lose? He slammed his firsts against his scales again, sending dragon-enhanced, sonic waves straight for Star.

She shrieked and covered her ears, wincing in the pain. Ra didn’t stop. He readied another Clanging Scales strike, knowing that this would be the best way to slow her down.

It did not last. A Psychic blast twisted the air around him and he couldn’t dodge in time. He roared when the ground was taken from his feet, spun all the way around until he was on his side. He was lucky that most of the attack had missed, or his spirit would have been torn apart right there.

Star floated up and flew away.

“How dare you… run away…!” Ra said, staggering up. He slammed his fists against his scales again, sending another wave of sound toward Star. It hit right where he wanted and she shrieked, faltering where she stood.

She turned her tiny head around with wide, angry eyes. The Dungeon walls collapsed around them, becoming nothing more than clouds and fog as the entire floor shifted and shuffled. Ra weakly jumped to a part of the ground that felt solid, even while electricity danced around every part of the cloudy floor. But he didn’t step wisely. He sank through the ground instantly and saw a glimpse of the void below.

For just a moment, Ra felt fear.

_“Hey, Ra.”_

_Ra was lying in the middle of the clearing in total silence. He could only hear Star’s voice, but he knew she was somewhere inside his Orb._

_“Star.”_

_“So… I figure you heard the news.”_

_Ra’s claws strangled the air. Despite this, he spoke calmly. “With life comes death. It means nothing to me.”_

_“Well… okay.”_

_Ra grunted. “It’s just fine. I’ll be fine.”_

_“Mhm. Sure. So, anyway, Hecto spotted her along the aura sea… so… if you want, I can—"_

_“No,” Ra said, no matter how much it pained him to say it. “Send her to Step, first.”_

_“You can always just visit her in her realm…”_

_But Ra knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t face her again. He understood, now, why she visited so rarely. He did not adapt. His Dragon pride—it was too much for her, and he was too foolish to not compromise for her sake, and for their kids’ sake. This was his punishment._

 “Grab him!”

A huge hand grabbed Ra by the arm, stopping his fall. The very edge of his tail and the large scales attached to them grazed the blackness below. It evaporated instantly. He jerked his tail up and stared at his savior—an Electivire. The hulking Pokémon smirked and pulled him out of the pit. Just then, a Zebstrika and Vikavolt crackled past them, tackling Star simultaneously.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Star shouted. “Do you realize that if she takes the Core, you’ll all—”

Twin Thunders struck Star; her scream was deafened by the boom.

Ra stared dumbly at the display. He only broke his gaze when he heard a crowd of shouts behind him. That’s when he realized—his Clanging Scales were so loud that they drew all of the spirits his way. They were all coming to him—all of them.

Electivire held Ra by the shoulders, shaking the senses back into him. “Find Zoroark. Bring her to the Core.”

“But you’ll—”

“ _Go!_ ” Electivire threw Ra into the air with a single thrust. Something held the Kommo-o in place after that.

“What—?” He looked back to see a Raichu balanced on her own tail for levitation holding her tiny paws toward him.

“Get her, Ra!” the southern Raichu said.

He accelerated rapidly over Star and the others. Star glared and held her paw up. Ra felt something squeezing at the inside of his chest, but only for an instant. Seconds later, an Electrode slammed into Star’s back, held in place by a Heliolisk.

“Run! NOW!” Electrode said and then shut his eyes tight.

“Nooo, no, NO!” Star said, but Electrode’s body was already a bright white. He exploded, evaporating the spirits nearest to Star, but not Star herself. Ra knew this only because of the pink sphere that enveloped her, protecting her from the blast, though she still couldn’t see through the smoke.

He smashed through one of the cloudy walls and flew over another void. He tried to get some sort of leverage, but he was helpless in the air. He saw another creature ahead, flying over the fissure. Its ugly face was a relief.

The Eelektross wrapped around him and pulled him over the fissure with what momentum he had, finally letting go when they reached solid ground.

“The Core is just ahead. Zoroark is nearby. See her? There!” He pointed a claw toward a black blur rushing past the collapsing halls to their right. “I don’t know how she did it, but she made it through the Dungeon. She’s a smart feral, that’s for sure.”

Ra nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “Stop Star for me.”

“You got it.”

With that, Ra advanced, realizing that, near the Core, the ground felt a lot more stable. Perhaps even the shifting portions of this cursed Dungeon was unable to split apart the Core’s general area. He sighed in relief, realizing this, and focused entirely on chasing after Zoroark.

A few spirits were still trailing her. It seemed like she was trying to flee but inadvertently wound up going straight to the Core as they wanted. All she had to do was grab it. They’d _force_ the Core to accept her if they had to, even if Star wasn’t going to allow it. That was easy enough. They just needed time for it to happen.

_He heard it again. Shuffling. Weak, slow shuffling, from a fading aura. “Pops…”_

_He rushed to the entrance. “Kana…! How did you make it here?”_

_“Not sure myself, heh…”_

_Her voice was softer than ever. Shaking, even. Her scales were faded, and a few had come off in small patches that never quite grew back. It wasn’t as fast as Cent. No, this was simply age. It happened to the best mortal—death claimed them all in time. All except for Ra._

_“Please, sit down. Don’t strain yourself,” Ra said softly. He helped her to the wall, where she gratefully sank down, breathing heavily to recover._

_“I just wanted to see you. You know, in person. Before I… can’t make the trip anymore, heh. You wouldn’t understand.” Kana rubbed the back of her head. Her arm trembled when it did. It always trembled—it had been that way for three years, now._

_“Kana…”_

_Kana shook her head. “Pops… I don’t remember where Mom lives.”_

_Her eyes were downcast as if she aware of her own fading memory. Ra knew about it. He remembered how she had gotten lost before. She had wandered all the way to Nightshade as if it was an old part of her memory coming back, forgetting everything else. Ra had asked Kana about her mate—he had died long ago, too—and Kana didn’t know what he was talking about._

_“Can you write down where she lives?” Kana asked. “So I don’t forget.”_

The Core’s chamber of Thundercloud Temple was as it always had been. Clouds formed a great dome within the center of the building. Jittering strings sizzled across the fluffy interior, all converging toward the center, where lightning whipped at everything nearby.

He remembered touching this Core long ago. He never knew what happened to the last Guardian. Or was he the first? He had been one for so long, he wouldn’t doubt if that was the case. This world felt so young.

Zoroark entered the chamber. She spun back upon realizing that she was trapped. Ra caught up with the two Pokémon that had chased her inside. First, he looked to the left at a Pachirisu. Then, he looked to the right at an Electric Typhlosion, lightning erupting where flames usually rose.

“Good work,” Ra grunted. “Now we just need to keep her inside this chamber.”

Zoroark hissed at the three of them.

“H-how do we do that?” Pachirisu asked. “We can’t attack her! If we kill her here…!”

“Her spirit is strong,” Ra said. “Don’t think she will fall so easily.” He held his arms forward and upward, ready for anything she had for them.

“Stay behind,” Ra said. “Keep an eye out for Star. I will test Zoroark’s strength myself.”

“D-don’t you die, either,” Pachirisu said. “You aren’t tied to the Core!”

“I will be fine.”

Suddenly, countless blue embers flew over Ra and Zoroark’s heads, entering the Core like embers from an exploding fire in reverse. Ra knew that this meant Star just finished dispatching all of the spirits in the Electric Orb. She’d be coming here soon, perhaps even teleporting right inside. Wait. Why hadn’t she done that before?

Was it the chaotic Dungeon? Was that the cause? Why? Did she make it that way herself? No… Perhaps not.

Perhaps Ra himself had done it when he died. Perhaps this realm was in chaos because of his own spirit’s state upon death.

But the reason no longer mattered.

“Zoroark!” Ra shouted, pointing at her. “I challenge you to a—”

Something sharp sliced right through Ra’s back. He roared and stumbled forward, staring at the Zoroark before him. The illusion evaporated. He spun around and swung his arm at the true Zoroark, miraculously connecting.

She responded by crunching down on his scaly arm, breaking right through one of the plates. He, in kind, responded by slamming her against the ground, pinning her down. He didn’t have to hurt her too badly. Just keep her steady. He stared up at the Core, too bright to look at directly. He brought his arm up, ran three paces, and slammed Zoroark against the bright light. Electricity and heat surged through them both. She shrieked and flailed, trying to push Ra as far away as she could, but even though her spirit was strong, Ra’s was stronger.

Hands began to emerge from the core—countless paws, tendrils, and limbs wrapping around Enet’s body, digging into her fur and into her spiritual flesh. She screamed, breaking away from it with one final jolt. Ra reached out one last time, but Enet snapped down on his arm instantly—and that was the last his spirit could handle. She crunched straight through it, blue fire pouring out of the wound. He staggered back, clutching at the arm. It didn’t hurt—nothing hurt anymore—but he felt his body evaporating. He felt… fleeting.

No. Not _yet_. He wasn’t _done_ yet. He focused, and his arm returned to normal. The blue embers faded away, sealed back inside.

The Core glowed brightly. Two embers rushed past him and into the Core. That only meant—

“Nice try.”

Ra suddenly couldn’t feel his lower body. He fell forward, flat on his face, and used his arms to roll onto his back. He saw his lower half still standing, spewing blue fire. It evaporated in seconds, revealing Star at the entrance, her paw still glowing from the aftereffect of a Psycho Cut. How could she use such a technique? Oh, of course. She wasn’t just a Mew. She was _the_ Mew—designer of _all_ techniques.

Ra knew he was outmatched, but that didn’t matter.

“It’s too late, Star,” Ra said, using his left hand to point at the Core. “It’s too much to stop, now. They already touched her.”

Star’s tiny paws trembled, clenched like fists. Ra just laughed. Sliced in half, lying helplessly on the ground before his Creator. Ra never felt so free.

Zoroark hissed at Ra, rushing toward Star. The Mew flinched but then realized that she was hiding behind her for safety.

“What will you do, Star?” Ra asked. “Will you kill her? Your own child?”

“Don’t use that line on me,” Star hissed. “Practically everybody’s my child!”

“And look at how you treat them,” Ra said, holding his chest mockingly. “I’m so hurt, mother.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Star said. “As if you can tell me you never beat up your kids.”

Ra’s smile was obliterated.

Star looked down at Zoroark. The feral looked up at Mew with wide, ignorant eyes. She pointed at Ra commandingly.

Star raised her paw. Pure fighting energy collected at the tip—a Focus Blast. At the same time, countless white filaments of light emerged from her back like wings.

“You’re really going to do it,” Ra said. “I suppose you’re showing your true colors, now, aren’t you?” he said. “Pathetic. Truly pathetic. Just to keep your precious Orb safe, you’ll obliterate an innocent feral.”

“One that _you_ tricked into coming here,” Star said, but the energy in her paw flickered.

Zoroark stared at Star for a while longer, clearly not realizing that Star intended to destroy her.

“And then what?” Ra said. “The Orb has nobody. A Hunter will get it. Then what? I did you a favor. I gave you a strong replacement.”

“She’s hardly strong,” Star shouted. “She can’t even talk! What good is that?!” She winced. “I’ll just have to find someone else. I’ll draw in a new hero. I’ll make them a Guardian instead, and we can start from scratch. Easy.”

Ra laughed weakly. “But didn’t you forget, Star?” he said, pointing at her. “It’s already too late.”

The Core flashed. Countless wads of electricity and light exploded out from the chamber, surrounding Star from all sides. Zoroark screamed and ran away, but one of the beams of light latched onto her, piercing her through her back. She wailed and tried to slice it off, but it was already a part of her soul. It dragged her to the Core, even as her claws dug into the clouds. She shook her whole body, flailing.

“STOP!” Star roared.

Electric spirits solidified around her. Countless Pokémon. Ra knew the name of every single one. He knew their Electric spirits, and he knew the bodies they used to be long before. Some never abandoned it completely. He saw the Electric Typhlosion again, blasting Star with balls of white sparks. He saw a Luxray—long ago, he was a Nidoking, but had since chosen a different form to take, after so many centuries of being dead.

All of them barraged Star, attack after attack. Ra saw her tendrils of light explode out, piercing through some of the spirits. The air spun with every Psychic blast. Blue embers poured back into the Core, only to be replaced by new spirits ready to fight.

Zoroark was pinned against the Core by her own link to it. She was sinking, still screaming. Limbs of spirits in the Core grabbed onto her, stroking her fur. Whispers of calm. But she didn’t understand their language. Finally, the light enveloped her completely, and the Core disappeared—absorbed into Zoroark, the new Electric Guardian.

“Good…” Ra said, closing his eyes.

Zoroark fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious.

“And now what… Star?” Ra said.

The world trembled as if heaving a sigh at new stability. Zoroark’s wild heart, while terrified and confused, was not in pain like Ra’s was. And, indeed, the Kommo-o could sense Thundercloud Temple slowly ease its way back into stability.

Star stopped fighting the spirits to glare at Ra through the many bodies that blocked her view. The spirits, too, stopped, knowing that their part of the job was over.

One final Psychic blast eliminated them, leaving only Ra behind. The rest watched from the Core. At this point, only his upper chest, arms, neck, and head remained.

“I’ll just… kill her now,” Star said. “She’s… she’s asleep. She won’t even know it.”

“And what then?” Ra asked.

“I already told you.”

“No, Star,” Ra said. “You’re just telling yourself that. You’re just upset that I’m leaving… that I’m finally free.”

“It isn’t _like that_ , Ra,” Star said. “I’m just trying to help!”

“Oh, and what a _wonderful_ help you’ve been!” Ra said, waving his right arm. “Centuries of isolation and suffering for all! Yes! A fantastic existence!” He let his arm drop. “My lovely Step was right to abandon you.”

“Just like she abandoned you,” Star said.

Thundercloud Temple was silenced.

“…I’m sorry,” Star said, lowering her head. “That… that was uncalled for.”

“It’s just like you, though,” Ra said, but he couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice. He steadied himself. “Doing something you think would be good _right now_ … not realizing the consequences later. For a Psychic, you have surprisingly little foresight.”

Ra grunted, realizing that his arms were too weak to hold him up. They were evaporating. Now all he could do was stare at Star with what little strength he had left. He wondered what would happen to him afterward. Still, after everything, he wondered if the peace of oblivion would be preferential. Was that his destination?

“Star, if you kill this feral,” Ra said, “you’re no better than Arceus. Remember that.”

Star flinched. The temple let out a final sigh.

“I have one more thing that I want to ask you, Star,” Ra said, knowing that he’d won. “Something that… you never answered. That you always evade when I ask. The memory is so… _faded_. But seeing as I’m about to go… I want you to answer for me. Finally, you can be honest. Why I can’t remember. Why this person… is so faded from my mind… and yet… feels so important. Perhaps as important as Step. Yet by what I imagine is a Divine Decree… I am not allowed to remember.”

Star said nothing, but he had her attention.

“Where,” Ra said, “is Yveltal?”

Based on how Star didn’t react, Ra knew she was expecting this question. His vision was fading. He felt oddly _tired_. His mission complete, he actually felt rested. At some point, his eyes had closed, ready for an eternal nap.

“Ra…” Star said.

One last annoyance, he figured. He opened his eyes and glared at Star. “What? Will you answer?”

Star looked down, flicking her tail thoughtfully. “…I can’t.”

Ra snorted. “Of course.” And with that, his spirit evaporated completely.

_Ra stood in Thundercloud Temple. Only moments ago, his heart had been filled with more joy than he’d ever felt in decades. Both of his daughters had returned to him, and they looked as youthful as ever. In their prime, even, like a proud Dragon should. But then, seconds later…_

_Cent shook her head. “Like, Pops, my mate is waiting for me across the aura sea. I can’t stay. I just came here because… I know you can’t really follow.”_

_Ra shook his head in disbelief. Then, he turned to the other daughter. “Kana…”_

_But she, too, shook her head. “Dad, I… I can’t just stay here forever. The other spirits might be happy, but I don’t want to lose myself here. I have to go.”_

_Ra stepped forward, but both his daughters just turned away. They couldn’t bear to look at him, but Ra just wanted to see their eyes one last time._

_“Mom already said bye,” Kana said. “She’s glad that we can move on. But, Dad…”_

_“Please… there has to be some way,” Ra said. “What—what about your children? My grandchildren? Can’t—can’t I see them?”_

_But Ra knew the answer. He was never allowed to see them—not him, nor Step. And he shouldn’t. They shouldn’t know about this Guardian conspiracy. They should live normal lives. They should never know he exists…_

_Cent sighed tiredly. Ra thought, for a moment, that they would actually stay. But then she said the one thing he didn’t want to hear—the same words that he’d heard so many decades ago. The empty promise._

_“We’ll visit.”_

Where was this?

Ra recognized it, vaguely. He couldn’t move. He lacked a body _to_ move. All around Ra was a great, endless expanse of darkness, populated only by the gentle glow of countless auras, all moving in one direction toward a great, dim light.

 _The aura sea,_ Ra said. _So… that’s where we go. Even if a spirit dies… we still can’t rest. We go right here. We all go… right here._

The faint glow of the outer spirit world beckoned him. He let the flow take him, for he knew his daughters would be waiting.

But then the flow changed, just for him. He bumped past a few spirits, falling through their fire. He heard their thoughts. Terrified thoughts, confused thoughts. One was whimpering that it still burned. The other one was nothing but a series of hisses and growls.

A great, gray figure stood above the sea, staring at Ra with his one eye.

“Hello, Ra,” the Dusknoir greeted.

 _Hecto…_ Ra said.

“I am fortunate to find you in the sea. Star warned me that you would flow here soon.”

 _Then perhaps I should have stopped thinking_.

“Perhaps, yes,” Hecto said, “if your desire was to evade my eye.”

Hecto held out his massive hand, grasping Ra’s flickering soul within it.

 _Where are you going to take me, then?_ Ra said.

“Star requested I send you somewhere specific,” Hecto said. “The typical afterlife is not a location suited for one such as yourself.”

This was the second time that Ra felt fear this night. That fear was snuffed out with spite and anger. _So that’s how it is?_ he said. _Such a place truly exists after all…?_ When Hecto did not reply, Ra continued to speak. _Know that she’ll never be happy with what she’s done to me. I’ll never give her the satisfaction that I’ll suffer. I’ll take whatever eternity you give me, and I’ll take it with nothing but eternal_ hate. _When I’m free, I will do more than kill her, Hecto. I’ll find everything in my power to_ ruin _her, the same way she did for us. To all Guardians. To this whole_ world. _The world you claim to watch over. You are a blight. You and that despicable Creator._

Still, Hecto said nothing.

 _I should have sided with Arceus and the Divine Dragons,_ Ra finally said.

Hecto’s one eye did not blink, but Ra was out of words to say. The Dusknoir turned, pointing Ra toward some black void in the sea. “Good luck, Ra,” Hecto said, and then pressed his hand forward. Ra flew through the sea, far, far away from the flow of the many spirits that made their transitions into the next world. He was away, now.

Ra cursed Star all throughout the void.

_Ra stood outside of his den, walking deep into the clearing. The once clear sky darkened with lumpy clouds. The world roared. “You did this to me.”_

_“No—Ra, that’s not what happened!” Star said. “I wasn’t trying to—"_

_“You… RUINED my life…!”_

_“I—I had no choice! I was just trying to help! I—"_

_Ra shook his head. “I’m done.”_

_“D-done? R-Ra! Wait! What are you doing?”_

_Ra held his arms out. The lightning crackled along his scales and between his claws. “The forest will burn… and with the last of my power… I’ll lay the Orb bare.”_

“Gnnkk—!” Ra gasped his first breath. A horrible coldness pierced his throat. He struggled to his feet. He could barely stay up. All he could see was a gray darkness. Hard snow and heavy winds slammed against his scales, freezing him to the bones. He took a single step and that was too much.

“S-so this is my eternity, is it… S-Star…” Ra said, looking at the black sky. He wandered through the snow even as his scales became coated in a thick layer of ice. His limbs froze up. Every step chipped away at the ice layered upon his cold form. “I will… for all of my existence… devote every second… to…”

He collapsed. The snow billowed over him, covering his body. His spirit wanted nothing more than to move, but his energy was gone. Everything was fading again. _Step… Kana… Cent…_ Ra said. _I’m… sorry._

It all faded…

“I found him!”

Ra’s eyes shot open.

“Oops. I think he’s frozen already.”

“Don’t just stare at him—help out, Sis!”

“R-right, sorry. MOM! We found Dad!”

Icy hands wrapped around both of his arms.

“Okay, one, two—three!”

They lifted him up. By some miracle, he could still see. Tears froze painfully against his eyes. He couldn’t speak.

Two Kommo-o tilted their heads at him. They were see-through, like glass. Closer inspection indicated that it wasn’t glass—it was ice, like living sculptures. “I think he’s out of it,” said the left one.

“Where is he?” a booming voice called.

Ra knew the voice, but he also knew the sound of her heavy, slow steps. He saw an Aggron in the same style as his daughters, see-through and glimmering in the dark. Her steps pierced through many feet of snow without effort. Her solid eyes softened upon seeing the helpless, frozen Dragon.

“Unbelievable…” Step said, putting a hand to her forehead, making a dull _tok_ noise. “Star told me that I should be expecting you. I didn’t think she meant it like _this_.”

“St… ar…” Ra said.

“Yes, Star,” Step said, crossing her arms irritably. “I _thought_ she meant you were going to try to visit at the same time as Kana and Cent.” When Ra didn’t reply, she went on. “This is more than a visit, I imagine.”

“Uh, Mom, I think he’s an icicle,” Kana said.

Cent tapped her claws on Ra’s cheek. Solid. “Yeah, he’s frozen.”

Step sighed, this time using both of her hands to cover her face. “What a fool… what a mess…” She groaned. “You’re helpless without me.”

The statue of Ra did not reply.

“Come. Let’s take him to the Core so he can acclimate,” Step said. She turned around, walking through the snow of the Ice Realm.

Kana took the front, while Cent took the rear, making sure they didn’t accidentally break some part of their father’s frozen spirit along the way. He was so stiff that it actually _was_ much like transporting a statue.

“Mom?” Cent said. “I guess we can visit a little more often, but… are you gonna talk to Dad more, now?”

“I doubt I have a choice,” Step replied.

“Yeah, but,” Kana interrupted, “we mean more like… are you two… gonna be together again?”

“Again,” Step said, “it is not like I have a choice.”

“But you do,” Cent said. “You can just tell him to go. But… you aren’t.”

Step pressed on without a change in expression. “We’ll talk,” she said. “If he chooses, I will allow him to… stay. Perhaps… it is time we reconnected.” She looked down. “After all, there is… nothing separating us now, is there?”

Step looked back at Ra’s desperate expression, frozen in time. She sighed. “You look disgusting when you’re weak,” the Ice Guardian said, knowing his spirit could still hear her in some small way. “When you attach to my Core, I expect you to be stronger. Like you used to be.”

They climbed a small hill and slid down. Snow collected over Ra’s eyes, blinding him. He only heard the howl of the wind and the sound of her voice.

 “Star came here only moments ago to tell me about your arrival,” Step said. “I’ve never seen her so shaken.”

Despite being unable to see, Ra could feel her smile.

“I liked that.”


	29. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen tries to befried the wild Guardian of Electricity with questionable results. It appears that conversing with a Wild Pokemon is not the easiest thing to do in the world, but with some help from Star, they attempt to make progress.

“Enet… that’s your name. Right?” Owen said, careful to not speak too loudly. The Electric Guardian, feral? A wild Pokémon? How was he supposed to work with that?!

The Zoroark stared uneasily at Owen. The Charmander was never good at reading wild expressions. Was she afraid? Happy? Defensive? Angry? It could be anything. Their culture was entirely alien to him, if he could call it a culture… Maybe it was just instincts. Oh, if only his perception wasn’t so dulled as a Charmander. Maybe he’d get a better clue. He just had to guess. How would wild Pokémon normally behave?

Owen took a careful step forward. Perhaps not the best move, Owen considered. He saw the Zoroark tense and he reversed. “S-sorry,” he said. “Enet?”

Her ears flicked.

“I’m… I’m a friend. Oh, um…” Owen carefully moved his arms. Enet watched every movement, especially when he put them into his pouch. Slowly, making sure he made no sudden movements, he pulled out an apple. Enet lost her tension when she saw the red fruit, but still stared uneasily.

“Here,” he said. Gently, he rolled the apple toward her. It stopped a few inches from her feet. Without taking her eyes off of him, she reached down and held the apple, tentatively sniffing it. She took a bite and lost sight of Owen for only a split second. She immediately looked back at him; Owen sensed her aura flare with panic at just that moment. When Owen didn’t do anything, Enet’s tension faded slightly.

He took another step back, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. But what would she be afraid of? She was at least thrice his size… Maybe it was his flame. But if he transformed now, it would just startle her.

“I—I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said. “I’m here to help. Okay? Enet?”

“Enet…” the Zoroark finally repeated.

 _Oh, thank goodness, she can actually talk!_ Owen tried not to look too excited externally.

“Y-yeah, Enet,” Owen said. “Do… do you know that’s your name? Enet—if you know that, and you can say your name—does that mean you can actually talk?” It wasn’t so helpless after all. Still, she was definitely wild to an extent…

The Zoroark took a long time to answer. She was halfway done with the apple. “Talk…” she said. “No.”

“I—I mean, you can _kinda_ talk,” Owen said.

Enet growled.

“S-sorry, I didn’t want to patronize or anything…”

Enet growled more.

“Wh-what?” Owen squeaked. “I—I’m sorry!”

Enet chomped on the last of the apple and turned around in a huff. She started to walk away.

“E-Enet?” Owen said. She wasn’t watching him anymore—did she feel safer? “W-wait!” he called, walking after her, just fast enough to keep up, but not get closer.

The walk was surprisingly long. The Zoroark made specific turns; they seemed random, but Owen had a feeling she knew where she was going. Every so often, Owen spoke up, but Enet would usually only reply with a huff or a growl. It wasn’t until at least several turns that he actually got a meaningful response.

“Um… so you’re… the Guardian? Electric?”

Enet huffed and flicked her tail. Little sparks flew from her fur.

“Wow! Yeah, that’s it alright… cool… I’m the Grass Guardian,” Owen said. “See?” He waved his hand, turning it green. Enet wasn’t even watching, and more silence ensued between them. “Um… do you like apples?” Owen asked.

“…Apples. Good.” Enet said.

Owen thought he’d hallucinated the response. It took him a few seconds to come up with his own. “Okay, that’s good. Apples are good.”

“Good.”

Owen nodded. “Um… how… much do you know? How to talk?”

“Words.”

“Y-yes, you know words,” Owen said.

Enet growled at him again.

“Wh-what?”

“Not stupid,” she said.

“Oh!” After that, Owen nearly said, ‘So, you know that word,’ but managed to save his own life by refraining. Instead, he said, “Sorry.”

They made a few more turns. The cave was getting even darker. How deep did this burrow get? The ground was starting to feel compact, like rocks…

“Do, um… are you… wild? Um… always wild?”

Enet took a bit of time again, but then she shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, so you used to be… not wild?”

“No,” Enet said.

“Um…” Owen hesitated. “So… you’re wild?”

“Yes.”

“Always wild?”

“No.”

“But you used to be wild… wait… um…”

Enet snorted, impatient. “I know words.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, you do,” Owen said. It took a few seconds for him to realize what Enet meant. “Actually, about that—who taught you…?”

Enet waved her arms around, briefly shifting her appearance until she resembled a Mew. Then, she reverted back to normal. Owen made a mental note that this Zoroark’s illusions were well above average.

“Oh! Okay, okay, I get that,” Owen said. “Star taught you word—wait… s-so you really _were_ wild when you got the Orb! That’s… that’s crazy! How did they accept—”

Enet was growling again. Owen recognized this as her way of saying he was saying too much, or speaking in a way that she didn’t understand.

“S-sorry. Um… so… when you got the Orb… they let you?”

“No.”

“Oh. How did you?”

“I fought.”

“Oh.” Owen supposed he should have expected that response. “You fought off… the Electric Spirits? Or… the old Guardian? Or…?”

Enet shrugged. “Fought. Scary.”

How strong was Enet? Owen hesitated, wondering why she was afraid at all. Or was it just her spirit that was powerful? “So, you took the Orb by force? From who? Who had it before?”

“Who?”

Owen paused. So, the Orb was abandoned, or otherwise alone, and Enet found it. It seemed like when she touched it, the electric spirits tried to drive her away, but she was too strong. That seemed like a reasonable story. A powerful, wild Zoroark. “Wow…” Owen said.

“Why… follow?” Enet asked.

“F-follow? Oh, sorry, I… I wanted you to come with me.”

“To?”

“My home,” Owen said.

Enet scoffed. She flicked her hair against the Charmander—the sheer force and weight of just that brush and the odd, teal bangle that kept it all together nearly knocked the tiny reptile over.

“No,” she said.

“Why?” Owen asked. He briefly wondered if offering more apples would appease her. Infinite apples for the feral? They were very food-driven, after all. But given how she reacted when he insinuated she wasn’t smart, she’d probably take it the wrong way if he offered her food. He tried a different strategy. “Isn’t it… lonely?”

Enet flinched.

Owen saw that as progress. If she wanted companionship, they had _lots_ of that. He could only imagine what it would be like to be isolated like that, just like all the Guardians. He saw hints of that damage from Zena. But for Enet—even if it didn’t look like she was Guardian for very long—she didn’t even understand _why_. She was just a feral. Didn’t she want to be with a _pack_?

“No,” Enet said. “Not lonely.”

But it wasn’t going to be easy, it seemed. She was stubborn. Leave it to a feral Guardian to be that way. “Enet…”

“No!” Enet growled. She spun around and pointed at Owen in an accusatory fashion, eyes narrowed dangerously.

Owen let out a small “Eep—!” and stopped right when her claw poked at his scales.

“You’re… small!”

Owen’s eyes maximized. Despite the claw only brushing his chest, it felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart. “I… I’m small?”

“Too small!” Enet said, sticking her nose in the air. She crossed her arms and turned around. “Want better.”

The confidence drained from Owen like blood. Flustered, he tried to salvage what he had left. “I… I mean… I mean, why…? My home is… big! Lots of friends!”

“Bigger friends?” Enet asked.

Owen stared down. “Y-yes. Bigger friends. Wait. Um—Enet?” Owen looked up. “Did you see… a Gardevoir and a Goodra?”

Based on the blank look she returned, Enet didn’t know what those species were.

“Um, big, purple, slimy. And another one, blue, with a fin, here…” Owen held a hand to his chest to mimic Amia’s chest-fin.

“Oh,” Enet said, nodding.

“Are they okay?”

Enet shrugged. “Ran.”

“Oh,” Owen said. “So, they’re still somewhere in here. But it’s so complex, I dunno if…” He sighed. They were stronger than he was—they’d be okay. Hopefully they’ll find their way out. “How come you can’t come with me because I’m small? To my home?”

Enet glanced back, staring at Owen like he was stupid.

“What?” Owen said. “Our home is nice. You’ll be safe.”

“Need better father,” Enet said.

Owen blinked twice. “What?”

“Need big, strong dad.”

Owen’s arms dropped from their fin-pose on his chest. His heart skipped a beat. The flame on his tail flashed white. “W-wait! N-n-n-no, no, no—no! I wasn’t—that’s not—NO!” Wild Pokémon—why didn’t he realize it before? “I don’t want to be your mate! I want to be your _friend_! In… your… pack!”

“Pack?” Enet said, flicking her ears again. “Still too small.”

“Oh, come on!” Owen begged. What ego he had left was now smaller than he was. “Others in the—uh, pack are a lot bigger, though! And stronger! We’re Guardians, you know?”

Enet considered this, but then stopped. They reached what appeared to be a dead end, but the cave had opened up into a small cavern. Owen recognized it as her home, though there wasn’t much to it. A few fruits and berries, a nest, a small collection of water in a hollowed-out Aspear berry, and mysterious bones. Owen eyed one of them, praying to Mew that those weren’t Charmander bones. It was hard to tell. No, don’t be silly—they couldn’t be! Charmander didn’t live in Nightshade. The darkness was just getting to him. Something about a Zoroark’s den made his flame’s glow a lot less impactful on the walls.

“Stronger?” Enet said, breaking Owen out of his trance.

“Yeah. And Star’s our friend, too,” Owen said.

“Star…” Enet said softly. “I miss Star…”

 _A full sentence!_ Owen thought. “She’s really nice, huh?” Owen said. “Actually… would you like me to try to summon her?”

Enet growled slightly.

“T-to… see her? Want to see her?”

Enet watched.

“I can bring her right here. Now.”

“You can?” Recollection flashed in her eyes. The Zoroark made a motion with her claws. To her chest, and then pushing her hands outward in a spreading motion. “Like…?”

“Y-yeah! I think! A summon!”

“Call… summon,” Enet said, nodding. “Yes. Summon.”

“Okay. Give me a second, yeah?” Owen sat down, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. He channeled his aura and went inward, feeling for his Grass Orb. There. _Star…? Star, are you there?_

A few seconds passed.

 _She’s coming,_ Klent replied. _She must be in another part of the realm._

_Oh, okay. Thanks, Klent._

_How are you doing, Owen?_ Klent went on. _Feeling… small?_

_Not funny._

_Don’t worry!_ Amelia chimed in. _When you evolve, you’ll only be half her size!_

_You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?_

The Jumpluff and Lilligant laughed to one another. Owen heard the chuckles from the other spirits, too, and his tail flashed white from his embarrassment again. Despite this, the Charmander’s mouth twitched to a small smile. He never heard Amelia laugh like that before. _Fine, fine. You win._

Eventually—Enet was running her claws through her hair to pass the time at this point—Owen heard Star’s voice. _Yo. Found her?_

_Yeah. Enet wants to see you. She’s… a little… wild._

_Yeah, she is,_ Star giggled. _She’s got a wild personality, huh?_

_N-no, I mean, she’s literally a wild Pokémon. She can barely talk!_

_What…?_ Star said. _Again? …Hm… well… okay. You want me to come over?_

_Yeah._

_Okay._

A pinkish mist blew from Owen’s chest, forming into a cloud that was _barely_ discernable as a Mew-shaped nebula.

“I guess it’ll do,” Star said, looking at her paws. “Not bad, Owen. Manny must’ve boosted your power a lot.”

“Th-thanks,” Owen tittered. “Anyway, um… Enet, you—”

Enet swatted at Star, passing right through her.

“Hey!” Star said, swatting back. The mist made a small gust of wind that barely moved the Zoroark’s fur. “Stop that! I’m not something to smack around!”

Enet flinched and looked down.

The nebula floated in silence, spinning around the Zoroark to get a better look. “Enet,” Star said. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Enet nodded. “Long time…” she said.

“You were isolated for so long, you must’ve… forgotten a lot that I taught you, huh?”

“Forgot?” Enet said.

Star sighed, but then looked at Owen. “A long time ago, the old Electric Guardian… kinda got sick of being Guardian. He just… gave up and withdrew into the Orb, leaving for the spirit world. In other words, uh, died. Enet came over after a while, and… touched the Orb, and then we met.”

“Yeah, I figured out that much,” Owen said. “But what happened after? You… taught her how to talk?”

“Pretty much,” Star said. “Taught a lot of things. I’m good with wild Pokémon. And sapient Pokémon. I mean, I’m good with pretty much all life. Y’know, comes with the position.”

“Yeah, right, right,” Owen nodded. “But… Enet forgot?”

“Something must’ve happened to scare Enet off. She wasn’t the most experienced Mystic, and she must not’ve been able to meditate her way back into the spirit world. And then… I mean, time washes away quite a bit, y’know. She must’ve… regressed.”

Enet growled. “Big words.”

“I know, I know,” Star sighed. She looked to Owen. “Believe it or not, Enet never liked big words.”

“I… I believe it.”

Enet nodded.

“But I guess now we’re back together. Hey, Enet…” Star said gently. “Do you want to come with us? It’s safer, and it’s a lot better than living here, I promise.”

“But…” Enet paused. “You said… to stay away.”

Star winced. “Y-yeah, I did,” she said. “But we had a change in plans. Now we can stay together. How about that, huh?” The misty Mew held out an incorporeal paw.

Enet stared at it, but then stood up. “Okay,” she said. She swatted at Star’s paw and turned around. “I need… time.”

“Oh, to get your things?”

“…She has things?” Owen said.

Enet circled around her little alcove and picked up two items. The first was a fresh-looking Sitrus Berry. The second was a shiny rock with flecks of something turquoise—some kind of lucky stone. However, Owen’s extensive knowledge of Dungeon texts recognized that it had no use in a Dungeon or in battle. It was just pretty.

Owen paused, thinking. That stone reminded him of something, but what was it?

“Hey, Enet,” Owen suddenly said. “I have a pretty stone, too.”

“Y-you do?!” Enet said. “Show me!”

Owen giggled and dug through his bag. “Look!” he said, pulling out Nevren’s gift. “It’s a raw Eviolite for Pokémon like me. Apparently, it taps into the latent evolutionary energy that’s stored inside of us, and makes us stronger using that! It’s awesome! At least, that’s what I read about how it works.” Seeing that she didn’t understand what he said, he added, “It makes small Pokémon stronger!”

“Wow…!” Enet said. “Then, you… _super_ strong!”

“Aha ha… ha…”

“Uh,” Star pointed, “that’s not an Eviolite.”

“…It isn’t?” Owen said. “But I felt so much stronger…” And he read Dungeon texts. He knew what they looked like, and he _certainly_ could feel the effects on his suppressed aura.

Star shook her head. “That’s an _Everstone_ -Eviolite amalgam… thing.”

“Wh—but…! But it doesn’t look like an Everstone at all!” Owen said. “Wait—Everstone…. But isn’t that what _keeps_ me from evolving!?”

“Yeah, and yet you still evolved,” Star said. “…But then again, both times you evolved, you didn’t have your bag with you, right? You dropped it when you were running off in a fit the first time, and then the next time, you were fighting Azu unequipped. Huh.”

Owen stared at the stone, then at Star. She was right. But if that was the case, did that mean—

“S-so… so this is what’s keeping me from evolving?”

“Your aura must be getting to that point where even a reset won’t keep you down,” Star hummed.

Enet growled.

“Sorry, Enet,” Star sighed. “Owen goes crazy if he evolves. So, we keep him like a Charmander. But that might not last, looks like…”

“W-well, I’ll just… hang onto this,” he said, clutching the bag close. “I don’t wanna…”

Star smiled sadly. “Hey, don’t stress,” she said. “You’re still a Charmander. And you’re fine as a Charmeleon. And… I dunno,” she said. “Maybe next time you’ll make it.”

Owen felt less sure.

“Well, anyway,” Star shrugged. “Let’s go back. I can sense Anam panicking at a dead end, and Amia is still lost. Let’s find them and head back, alright?”

“R-right.” Owen looked down at the Everstone-Eviolite. As he followed the Mew and Zoroark, he kept the bag clutched a little bit tighter to his chest.

<><><> 

“Aw, hello there. Welcome to Sugar ‘n Spice.”

The Salazzle leaned over the counter, eying her new customer. Sugar tilted her head at her odd silence.

It was an Espurr with three large, brown bags filled with fruits, meats, and other groceries and treats. Since her arms were so tiny, the bags merely floated behind her, leaving her tiny paws free to point and gesture. Not that she did. She instead stared at the air in front of her.

“Um… are you okay, Espurr?” Sugar asked. “Are you looking for Spice? She’s out doing Heart business today. Just me.”

Rim’s huge eyes stared at the wall behind Sugar.

The Salazzle shifted uncomfortably, but kept up her smile anyway. She couldn’t hide the nervousness.

Rim’s eyes glowed bright. Sugar flinched, readying for some sort of Psychic blast—oh, she knew it was rude, but Psychics always got her on edge.

Rim pointed a paw at the wall.

“Y—yes?” She nervously looked back. “Oh.”

The wall was the display of all the menu items they had—all the little sweets and snacks that made Sugar ‘n Spice one of the most popular treat stops in all of Kilo. Little symbols of light appeared on many of these menu items in units of five. Others went as high as twenty.

“Wow, talk about a big haul,” Sugar said. “You got it. Just give me some time to gather them all up!” She slipped inside the back room, memorizing the order.

Rim stood in place, closing her eyes. Her paws trembled against each other. She breathed slowly. In, out. Sigh. Breathe.

“Okay!”

The Espurr jolted and nodded at Sugar.

“Aw, hey, no need to be shy. I don’t bite, much.” She winked. “Anyway, that’ll be fifteen thousand. A bit pricey, but you ordered a _lot_. At least it’s a nice, even number.”

Six coins appeared in front of her—one black and shiny like obsidian, and five white, shimmering coins. “Ten, eleven, twelve… yep,” Sugar nodded. “That’ll be all. Thanks for your business!”

The boxes of treats floated over to Rim and slipped neatly inside the least full bag. She left; once she rounded the corner, Sugar deflated.

“Ugh…” She clutched her chest. It felt as if the wind had been taken out of her. “Creepy little thing.”

Just then, Spice entered the store, looking a bit worse for wear.

“Oh, Spice,” Sugar said. “How’re you doing? Oof, you look rough. Why don’t you rest up in the back room?”

“I’ll do that,” Spice mumbled, tossing her bag behind the counter. It was quite light. Sugar knew that meant her team had to use quite a bit of their equipment during their mission—or they outright got ejected from a Dungeon. “That’s the last time I do _anything_ down south. That place is savage. And creepy.”

“Creepy, huh? Sounds like you got near the Abyss.”

“Don’t even _say_ the name,” Spice shivered. “I think I saw a demon.” She tossed herself into the back room, moaning out a frustrated sigh into the pillows. “Stupid little outlaw…”

“Outlaw?” Sugar said.

Spice clawed her way back to the front room, sliding on a set of pillows across the marble flooring. She rolled onto her back. “Sugar, look at my chest. Do you see anything?”

“Aside from the usual?” Sugar asked, pointing to the awful lighting scar.

“Yes, do you see any slashes or gashes? I don’t know if scars can get scars, but that Aerodactyl did me in good.”

“W-wait—Aerodactyl?” Sugar said. “You mean—”

“Yeah, him,” Spice growled. “With Anam and James gone doing who-knows-what, we’re getting a little careless. Nevren’s doing what he can, but we’re a little short staffed on leadership. Maybe we just weren’t as organized as we could’ve been, but the guy ran off. Our team was sent to chase him down, but you know what? He’s too clever! Chased him south. Then he tossed poor Leo straight into the Abyss.”

“ _Into_ the crater?” Sugar said. “Is he okay!?”

“Somehow,” Spice said. “We found him dazed and confused in a cloud of darkness further west. No clue how he got there. It’s a demon, I tell you! They tampered with his—something. He’s getting checked at the hospital now, just in case, but he says he just remembers falling, and then… not falling. And then whispers. And then… apparently a warm, fuzzy hug.” Spice shivered. “Ooh, just the _thought_ is creepy.” She paused. “And speaking of creepy! That Espurr! Did you just sell her a bunch of chocolate?”

“Oh, Mew, she was _so_ weird. Not a peep! She just pointed and put little numbers on each item she wanted. Gave me coins and left, but… I don’t want to discriminate, but that Psychic was… not settling well with my Poison half.”

Spice sighed. “I just don’t want to think about it,” she said. “It’s all back to my sensitivity. That Espurr, the Abyss… even those two Charmander that came in. Something was up with them.”

“What? You felt something from them, too? Wait—is this that same vibe you keep saying you feel from the Association Head?”

“Yeah, that slimy purple wad, too,” Spice said. “They all feel… weird. I don’t like it. And I dunno if it was one or both of them, but those Charmander—cute, sure—gave me an odd feeling, too.”

“Weren’t those the same two you met back during the Nightshade inferno a year ago?” Sugar asked.

“Yeah, but… I don’t _think_ I felt anything back then. Or maybe I was just too stressed to feel it.” She shook her head. “Whatever. I’m just gonna nap. That alright? I’ll help out when I’m rested.”

“Sure, Spice. Rest all you want.”

“Mn.” Spice pushed herself and her pillow-bed back to the back room. Her nightmares were filled with whispers and slime.

<><><> 

“Hey there, welcome to—oh, hey, Rim!”

A Smeargle waved his brush of a tail at the Espurr, who gave him a little smile in return.

“Hello,” she whispered.

“Here ya go,” Smeargle said, flashing a paper toward Rim, about as large as her head. “Look good to you?” he asked.

It was a realistic, colored painting of a blue Gardevoir. Rim nodded.

“You know, this one brings up some old legends down south. They say that there was once a Gardevoir whose talent for fire became so strong that her hair became the same color as blue embers. The hottest kind! Well, except for purple… and clear… uh…” Smeargle rubbed his brush under his chin thoughtfully, accidentally painting it blue. “Oh, right, uh, sorry. Anyway, I’ll take the other half of your—oh.” The coins appeared in front of him. “Alright. Here ya go.” He handed the paper over; it floated toward Rim and into her bag, slipped in neatly and carefully.

Another paper floated toward Smeargle—a handwritten note. “Oh, your next order? Same style, I take it.”

“Mm.”

“Right, right… huh… okay. Okay, yeah, I think I can do this one, easy. If you want it to be realistic, I think you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning, though. Getting a little late.”

“Mm.”

“Okay, so, let me just reiterate. Looks like this time you want me to draw a Joltik… with little pink wings?”

“Mm.”

“How big? Like, as big as the Joltik? Or even bigger?”

Rim held her little paws out. “Joltik,” she said. Then, she increased the distance between her paws by a little.

“Oh, okay. A little bigger?”

“Mm.”

“You got it. Should be easy.”

Just then, something buzzed inside Rim’s bag—this one was wrapped around her neck, much smaller. A tiny, gray Badge slipped out.

“Rim,” the Badge said.

Rim glanced at Smeargle and gave a little nod, stepping outside. Smeargle went back to work without a second thought. A small pile of coins appeared in front of Smeargle again—the first half of his commission.

“Eon?” Rim asked, rounding the corner.

“Come back home and drop off your things. We found one—the Electric Guardian. Turns out she was in Nightshade all along after all. Zoroark are really clever, huh?”

“Zoroark…” Rim repeated.

“Make sure you configure your aura for Signal Beam,” Eon said. “But… be careful. Owen’s there, too. And the Goodra. You should do this one… alone.”

“Owen…” Rim frowned. “Okay.” She slipped the communicator back into her bag. In a flash of light, she disappeared for home.


	30. Lakeside Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everyone gathered together, Owen and the others elect to wash up at the lake after such a hard day in an attempt to get to know Enet a little better and put her at ease.

Owen was able to locate his mother and boss without incident. They found Amia at a dead end; she had been running her hands along the walls in an effort to find hidden pathways. She just happened to not find the one that Owen found to get to Enet. The same could be said for Anam, who, while lost, was much easier to track down. He left a trail of slime wherever he went, likely because he was becoming progressively more frantic at being unable to find anybody. He was usually cleaner—though it wasn’t a very high bar.

Then, during their search, they ran across a patch of black fog running through the walls. It was like smoke, but it had no scent, and it was too dark to be simple fire smoke of the forest. It was ominous, in a way—looking at it gave a chill down Owen’s spine.

Enet hissed.

“Wh-whoa, whoa, it’s okay, Enet,” Owen said, patting her thigh—he was too short to hold much else. “That’s just James! He’s one of the spirits for Anam, the Ghost Guardian.”

“Yeah, it’s f-fine,” Star said, floating ahead.

The Decidueye appeared from the shadows with a nod. “I apologize for frightening you,” he said.

Enet growled.

“Use easy words, James,” Star said.

“…I beg your pardon?”

Enet snorted.

“Enet’s wild and isn’t exactly good with words,” Star said. “So… talk with… small words.”

“Small words,” James repeated. “Hm. Okay. I will… try.”

“Where’s Anam?”

James turned around. “Ahead,” he said. “He is…” it looked as if James was struggling to find simple descriptors for his status. “…Lost. This place is… easy to get lost in.”

Enet stuck her nose up proudly.

“Guess she’s good at making this place, um… confusing,” Owen said. “Right, Enet?”

The Zoroark nodded. “Very good. Lost easy.”

They continued through until they found what felt like fresher trails of slime. Owen grimaced slightly. “Does he always get like this when he’s lost?” he mumbled.

“When Anam panics… he does… become less tidy with himself,” James said.

“He’s gross?” Enet said.

“N-not gross,” James said, puffing out his feathers slightly. “He’s a Goodra. He can’t help it.”

Owen slipped forward and narrowly kept himself stable. The slime was _definitely_ fresh.

“He _is_ more _goo_ than _dra_ ,” Amia giggled, gingerly stepping over the trail of goo.

“H-hello?! Is that you guys?” the helpless Goodra called.

“Oh! That’s him!” Amia said.

Curious, Enet picked up the pace and ran along the hall—but then slipped on some of the slime puddles in the dirt, tumbling to the ground.

“E-Enet!” Owen rushed to help, and the Zoroark growled at the floor.

“Gross,” she muttered.

“Y-yeah, a little gross, you…” Owen pulled his hand away from her. The slime was a bit warm in the underground cave. A thick strand of connected his hand to her fur. “Ugh… Anam, seriously?”

“O-oh, Arceus, I missed you guys!” Anam wailed. The messy thing ran toward them. Before they had time to protest, he picked Owen up, squishing the Charmander’s body against his chest. “It was so scary! You just vanished and I couldn’t see even your auras!”

“P-please… Mom… hebb…!” Owen begged.

“Anam! Can you calm down?! Look what you’re doing to Owen!”

“Wh-what?!” Anam looked down. Owen’s head and shoulders were lodged inside his chest. He screamed panicked bubbles out through the base of Anam’s neck. “O-oh, s-sorry!” Anam said, tugging him out by the torso.

Owen gasped for air. “Why are you like this!?”

“I—I just like it like that! I, um…! Um…!” Anam looked down. He was dripping all over Enet, who irritably got up and tried to brush herself off.

“Stupid,” Enet muttered. “I’m gross.”

“I think it’s gonna take days to get this stuff out of my scales,” Owen mumbled, running a claw through the ridges of his arm. Each line gave a little glob of slime that dripped to the ground.

“S-sorry…!” Anam said, hiding behind his antennae.

Amia sighed. “Why don’t we just take a visit to the river first and wash off?” she said.

“R-river?” Owen said worriedly.

“Oh, Owen, just go to your Grass form and it won’t be so bad, hm?” Amia offered.

“Oh, yeah, good idea,” Owen said.

<><><> 

It took a while. Eventually, they emerged from the cavern. They walked through the dark forest with their designated native leading the way. Enet sniffed the air, flicking her ears. “…Smell,” she said. “Water.”

“Water, huh?” Owen said. “So, a river? Is it… moving?”

“Mm…” Enet nodded. “Yes.”

“Cool!” Anam said. “Let’s go! Race you to—”

“W-wait!” Amia said. “C-can you let us wash up first? So… so the water doesn’t… get…”

“Oh,” Anam shrank back again. “Y-yeah… okay. S-sorry…!”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Amia sighed, patting the Goodra’s shoulder. She winced when each pat left a trail of slime between her hand and his body. She tittered. “I—I’m going to head in!”

The water was hard to see in the darkness of Nightshade’s trees, their tops so thick and crowded that it indeed always looked like nighttime. If it wasn’t for Owen’s tail or their natural, Mystic glow, they would’ve been almost completely blind. Amia gently waved her hands in a forward motion, creating a sun-like orb above them, shining down. The river was clear and calm, perfect for washing off—though it was also bitterly cold.

“O-ohh…” Amia shivered. “I—I s-suppose if there isn’t m-much light… it _would_ be quite cold…!”

Owen dipped his foot in. Even as Grass, he could barely handle it. “C-can’t we… w-we use our Mystic power to stop feeling cold?”

“Oh! G-good idea…!” Amia said. “Just f-focus, and…!” She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, dulling her sense of temperature. “Uhn… that’s better,” she sighed. “But I do miss the cold, now, in a weird way.”

“I don’t,” Owen said, slipping into the water next. “Ahh… feeling clean again,” he said. “Y’know, this water isn’t so bad now that I’m a Grass Type, compared to having my tail get doused. It reminds me of taking a bath with Passho Powder so the water doesn’t make me want to die.” He gently lowered the flower inside and pulled his tail forward, inspecting the petals. He _supposed_ they were quite pretty, even if the Fire in him didn’t like it. Perhaps it was beautiful in its own way. He wondered how he would fare if he was in Zena’s position, as the Water Guardian. What would his tail look like then?

What would Zena look like as a Grass Guardian? Distracted, Owen’s head filled with images of what he and the other Guardians would look like if they had different Orbs in them. Owen wouldn’t have minded the Dragon Orb. The Dark Orb also sounded interesting. What would he look like as a Dark Type? He glanced at Enet. Dark Types were always so cool—imagine, a Dark Charizard! _Mm… Nightmander… no… that won’t work… how about… Gloomander? Twilizard!_ Owen’s mouth spread into a grin. “That’d be awesome…”

“What was that, dear?” Amia said.

Owen flinched. “Did I say something out loud?” he said.

Amia giggled. “What were you thinking about, dear?”

“Uh—nothing. Just what I’d look like as a Charizard and Grassy. Maybe my flower would get bigger?”

“Oh, that’d be so pretty,” Amia said, grinning.

 _She knows you’re lying,_ Star said from within Owen’s spirit realm.

 _Then I’m glad she isn’t pressing,_ Owen replied back.

_C’mon, what’re you really thinking? I’m curious! What’s so awesome?_

_Nothing, nothing! Just, uh, you know. What I might look like if I had an Orb that wasn’t Grass. Like… Dragon, or Dark._

Star scoffed. _What, the Types you think are cool?_

_N-no._

_You’re a bad liar._

Enet jumped into the lake, splashing water in all directions. She shook out her fur underwater, and a little tingling ran across Owen and Amia’s bodies.

“E-Enet! W-w-watch o-out f-for y-your E-Electricity!” Owen said.

“Huh?” Enet asked, shaking out her fur again. She ran her claws through the matted clumps, heaps of mud and grime sinking to the bottom of the river. Brown streaks trailed from any part of her that made contact with the water’s surface. She dunked her head in again, electrifying the other occupants once again.

“E-Enet!” Owen begged.

“O-oh, le-let her w-wash up, O-Owen,” Amia said. “Th-think of it a-as a little—th-therapy!”

“Bad—th-therapy!” Owen shook his head.

Anam giggled and plopped down a few feet downstream, sighing. Thankfully, the electricity faded after the third wave of shaking by Enet. The furry Pokémon tended to her fur with her claws next to get the rest of the mud and slime out of her. She pulled at the little bangle; Owen watched curiously. With a little squeeze, it snapped open, sending Enet’s fur in all directions behind her. She dipped into the water, freeing all the dirt from her deep mane, holding the bangle in her claws while she bathed.

Amia sat and enjoyed the river’s gentle current, not making an effort to wash. After all, she just bathed in intense fire or lava most of the time. Meanwhile, Anam rotated his body left and right, sending little ripples around him, giggling. Owen was positive that his body was swelling slightly from all the water he was absorbing.

Behind Anam, out of the water, James watched with a little, happy glint in his eye.

Owen relaxed and looked at the sky next. “It’s a little spooky…” Owen said, admiring the black forest. “But I kinda like it here, in a way, too, y’know? In… in a… it’s a cozy kind of darkness, I think. Uh…”

“You don’t have to force it, dear,” Amia said, giggling.

Enet surfaced again, looking significantly smaller now that the water weighed down her fur. Her eyes were covered and she giggled, trying to brush it away.

“You’re right at home in the dark, aren’t you, Enet?” Amia asked.

“Dark!” Enet agreed. She kicked her legs until she was at the river’s edge.

Anam finally dipped his body further into the water, near the deeper center of the small river. He stopped once only his head was above the surface, enjoying the cool feeling that seeped into his slime. He sighed, looking a bit less solid, lounging. Owen briefly worried if Anam would wash away completely into the river.

“Anam,” Amia said, “I was chatting with Zena a few days ago. She told me that you reminded her of an old friend of hers. Did you know that?”

“Huh? She knew another Goodra?”

“No, no. Actually, she didn’t tell me what species she was—but it was an old friend from a long time ago,” Amia said. “Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s around anymore…”

“Oh… that’s too bad,” Anam said. “Oh! But what if her friend paid visits to the Water Orb?”

“Oh, that’s true!” Amia said. “You know, maybe that’s it! We could ask her,” she said.

“A-ask about a dead friend?” Owen said. “Isn’t that a little…?”

“Well, it isn’t as bad if they could’ve been visiting, right?” Amia said. “If they were friends, they definitely would have!”

“Oh, I guess so.” Owen wondered what sort of friend Zena would have known in the ocean. What sort of Pokémon was a water-dwelling, gooey creature, but _not_ a Goodra?

Enet tilted her head.

“Oh, um,” Owen nodded at Enet. “One of our friends, Zena. She’s really pretty, um, a Milotic, and she was really lonely.”

“Lonely?” Enet repeated. “Guardian?”

“Yeah! The Water Guardian,” Owen said.

Enet nodded. “I was… lonely,” she admitted. “A little…”

“I’d bet,” Owen said. He felt a presence calling on him from within; he focused and summoned Star as a pink cloud again.

“Yeah,” Star said. “Enet might’ve gone a little crazy for a while from the isolation. But I still don’t know why she…. Enet,” Star said. “How come you forgot to meditate?”

Enet shook her head. “Got… scared,” she said.

“Scared…?” Star said. “That was a long time ago. You got scared and just couldn’t remember how to meditate? What scared you?”

Enet glanced away. “…Monster…” she said.

Owen and Amia glanced at each other, then to Anam, and then at Star. The Ghost Guardian stopped his playful twirling to listen.

“Monster?” Star repeated. “You mean…?”

“Someone with… weird… strong…” Enet said. “Chasing me…”

“Sounds like a Mod,” Owen said, glancing at his claws. “…So, they were around that far back? How long ago?”

“Enet went silent seasons ago,” Star said. “Enet, did they ever show up after that first time?”

Enet nodded.

“When was the last time?”

“Few days…”

“A few days ago? Okay, and before that?”

“Few days…”

“And… before that?”

Enet paused. Then, she shrugged.

“Ten days? Twenty?”

“Mnn… forty,” Enet said.

“Forty, huh,” Star said, nodding. “That’s kinda a weird gap, but then again…”

Suspicious, Owen said, “How much is forty, Enet?”

Enet held up seven claws—the six on her paws, and then lifted one of her feet for the seventh. “Ten,” she said.

Owen sighed. “So, seventy,” he said.

Enet flinched and went back to tending to her fur, mumbling something incomprehensible to herself.

Owen went on. “Sounds like they were quiet for a while, but then suddenly they started getting active again. D’you think the others have a story like that?”

“No, none of them do,” Star said. “But Enet wasn’t exactly well-hidden. She could’ve been wandering around her burrow being wild, and then she got spotted.”

“Hmm…” Owen sighed. “Well, Enet? Who is it that keeps scaring you, then? Do you remember anyone specifically? …Enet?” The Charmander turned back. Enet, despite being drenched, looked a bit puffy, sparking with small arcs of electricity. Owen kicked his legs to slowly drift away, hoping he hadn’t upset her too much by correcting her math.

But then he followed her gaze, which was locked right onto something. She had the look of a wild Pokémon that was about to get into a fight.

“YOU!”

The voice came from behind Owen, right where Anam had been sitting. The location combined with the harsh tone was so startling that the Charmander could only stare with wide eyes to verify the source.

It was Anam. His eyes were fierce, staring in the same direction that Enet had faced. No. Those weren’t Anam’s eyes. And that wasn’t Anam’s voice. It was deeper and feminine. Where did James go? Owen’s eyes darted around—curse his lack of perception as a Charmander—and he spotted a black cloud in the trees behind them. It transformed back to James a split-second later. Motion in his peripheral vision drew his attention back to Anam—or whoever it was that now had control over his body.

A close inspection—now that she was moving to the shallower part of the river—revealed a slightly thinner Goodra. And solid. Her eyes and expression… the fierce hatred was something that Owen thought was physically impossible in Anam’s body. But that wasn’t Anam anymore, was it?

Black smoke enveloped Goodra’s right hand.

Owen followed the arm’s direction. There, just beyond the river’s edge, Owen saw a pair of huge, glowing, purple eyes in the trees.

Goodra fired a black sphere of mist from her hand into the trees, right toward those purple eyes. They vanished in a blink, but the black sphere detonated anyway. A sound—a combination of a deep, deep boom, a whistle like wind through a cave, and the shriek of some ethereal creature—shook Owen’s chest.

The tree that the wad of darkness hit exploded violently in a cloud of splinters and blackened leaves. The plume of pitch-dark smoke that followed seeped into adjacent trees, rotting them instantly. They collapsed under their own weight with thunderous creaks.

Amia was out of the water by now, head alight with fire around her fists. Enet was nowhere to be seen.

“What?” Owen mumbled. “Where’s—”

Rim appeared behind them. Goodra immediately blasted a smaller, half-charged sphere of rot toward the Hunter. She disappeared in another flash. Amia jumped away, floating a few feet above the river. Standing on an invisible platform of her own Mystic power, she realized that Owen was too slow—and too inexperienced—to think to do the same thing. He got caught up in the blast and shouted in surprise. The shockwave made his feet skid backward. Despite this, he could still stand.

He grunted, trying to bring his arms up to remain guarded, but something felt odd when he tried. Owen looked down out of reflex and gasped.

His hands were black. Scales fell off like dust, revealing dark, coagulated blood underneath. He didn’t feel anything. The flesh died so quickly that his body didn’t even realize what had happened. “What—” Owen said, but then he was hit with an intense, yet dull pain in his wrists. His breathing quickened; desperately, he searched for his bag near the riverside before that pain became all he could think about.

Goodra searched for Rim, but she had vanished again, just like Enet had. Then, the Ghost Guardian caught a glimpse of Owen and his rotting hands. Her eyes flashed green. Suddenly, she clutched at her face, grunting.

“No—no, stop—I hurt Owen—stop—” It was Anam’s voice again. Then, it became feminine. “No! We have to find the Hunter! Owen will live!” Back to Anam. “Please—I can’t kill the forest—I can’t hurt them—stop—STOP!” He flailed his head. His horns thrashed, cutting the air.

“Here, Owen,” Amia said quickly, pulling out an Oran Berry for him. Owen reached out but then worried that if he tried to hold anything, his fingers might give way. Amia nodded and brought it to his mouth directly. With a chomp, he took down half of it and then bit at the remainder. He jerked his head back and opened wider, managing to toss the rest of the berry into his throat by some bestial nature deep in his mind.

Owen puffed a small ember toward Amia in thanks. The pain had clouded his mind so much that he was focused only on making it better. At least some small part of him still recognized the Oran as the key to healing. Warmth spread from his throat to his chest, and then out into his hands. The dull pain gave way to a numbing tingling; color returned to his remaining scales, but it wasn’t enough to completely heal it. His hands trembled when the healing faded. It still felt bruised, and the scales were paler than the rest of him, like some sort of scar.

He looked back. “Anam?” he said.

The Goodra was shaking, too, clutching at his chest with his arms, practically hugging himself. Eyes shut tight, black smoke swam beneath the surface of his skin like underwater currents. Slowly, the black underflow through his body died down, and Anam was back to his normal, lavender color. “Thank you,” Anam said quietly to himself.

Owen sighed, but his hands were still trembling with a dull pain. What _was_ that power…?

A hissing crackle split the air further upstream. Something shrieked within the forest from that same direction.

“Enet!” Owen yelled. Without thinking, he ran toward the noise. Amia and Anam struggled to follow, but the thick forestry slowed them down. They couldn’t risk burning the forest away—it had barely recovered from the last one in another region—and Anam likely didn’t want to risk letting whatever it was that had possessed him before take control again. They had to struggle on their own.

That left Owen, transitioning into his Grassy form, to rescue Enet on his own.


	31. Evolution Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen risks it all in an effort to scare Rim away from their newfound Guardian. He questions the loyalties of a certain individual within their group, wondering if perhaps that Pokemon is not necessarily playing on their side alone.

Owen passed by a tree that had been so badly twisted that the top was touching the ground. Light shined through the gap it left in the canopy, revealing the colorful, fungus-plagued ground he stepped over. His hands, still partly rotten from Anam’s strange death fog, felt like they were being constantly prodded with tiny Poison Stings.

“Enet!” Owen yelled.

Amia ran after him, followed by Anam, sluggishly squeezing through the forestry.

Owen felt the presence of another Psychic blast coming his way and rolled; a rock behind him twisted into rubble. “She means business, huh—?”

“Enet better be careful—where’d she run off to?!” Amia said. “Enet!” She tripped over a vine. “Oh, sh—sugar lumps—” She closed her eyes, scanning for Enet’s aura while she tried to stand.

“Wait! But why is she even using Psychic on Enet?” Owen said. “She’s Dark, so—Psychic won’t exactly do all that much!”

James emerged from Anam’s body in a black cloud and followed Owen, leaving Anam and Amia behind. “She is trying to disrupt Enet’s illusions,” he said. “The light is something that Enet isn’t used to. It’s very likely that if this forest becomes too bright, she won’t be able to hide. Rim will likely then use another attack. We must hurry before—”

And just then, Rim sent a strange light directly at something in the shadows. Enet yelped in pain and scrambled into another bush. It must have missed because she wasn’t dead yet.

“Ngh—that’s not good,” James said. “That was Signal Beam—Enet isn’t going to handle a strike like that!” He spotted the Espurr in the trees. James immediately brought a wing forward and made a motion as if drawing from a string; a feather formed from black smoke, and he tugged on a string that appeared from the aether. A second later, he fired. It went straight for Rim. She vanished before it could connect, the feather piercing through the tree behind her.

“Ngh, it’s never that easy, is it?” James muttered. “We must hurry!”

“O-okay,” Anam said, falling over another boulder. Countless forest mushrooms floated through Anam’s body from his constant tumbles.

More trees fell. Rim was locked onto Enet, no matter how much the wild Guardian tried to maneuver through the darkness. “Help!” Enet finally cried.

That gave her away. Rim fired another Signal Beam.

“No—!” Owen said, and then thought fast. His Ember wouldn’t block it, nor would any of his projectile strikes. They were all energy-based, and signal-beam might go right through it. But what if—

Owen opened his mouth and launched a vine from his throat. It extended out and he felt his stomach drain as foot after foot of the vine spilled from him, but then realized by some instinct that he was reaching the end of how far he’d be able to extend it. It wasn’t going to be enough.

And in that desperate moment, Owen’s teeth enveloped with fire. With wits, instinct, and just a touch of desperate insanity, he chomped down on his own vine, simultaneously searing and cutting it while it was still being launched. It was fast enough that it kept some of its momentum, but the horrible, searing pain that surged through Owen made his vision fade halfway. His blood tasted like grass.

The tip narrowly intercepted the blast, and thankfully, the vine neutralized the attack completely. Owen, feeling significantly lighter, rushed toward where the blast had been aimed and found Enet cowering under a bush. “Are you okay?” Owen asked.

Enet whimpered, holding her arm. It looked like she had been grazed by the previous attack. Fur was missing on the arm and the skin beneath was partially charred.

“Just stay by me, okay?” he said. The Charmander immediately stared up at Rim, clenching his fist. His mind was racing with possible ideas on how to take her down—any way at all that could break through those defenses of hers, but she just seemed so insurmountable. He couldn’t even get a scratch on her before, and Rhys didn’t stand a chance, either.

If he struggled against Rhys, then what chance did he have against Rim? At some point, strategy could only take him so far…. Her barrier was the first problem. He could feel it, even from where he was standing. If he got too close, he’d run into that bubble of force; projectiles of any kind would be affected the same way.

He looked back at Enet. “I’m small, but I’m strong,” he said. “I promise.” Owen then looked up at Rim, waiting for her next move. He didn’t spot a single mutant yet—Rim must be going on her own this time. Perhaps she realized that sending her soldiers wasn’t going to do the trick for someone clever like Enet.

Owen was unnerved at Rim’s lack of action.

The Zoroark sniffed, but then nodded. “F-fight!” she said.

“Yeah, I’ll try that,” Owen muttered. He straightened and stared at Rim. “…H-hey! You better… leave us alone!” he shouted.

He knew that Rim was calculating her next move. She had the luxury of time—she could wait as much as she wanted, and they wouldn’t be able to escape. But something just wasn’t right about this. There was that _inkling_ in the back of his head again. That this wasn’t just some coincidence that Rim found them, no—that there was something else going on. None of this felt right. She could have blasted them by now. Why did she stop?

That didn’t matter. She also wasn’t _leaving_. He had to scare her off somehow. He needed a boost—and he really only knew one way to get that. He glanced worriedly at Enet, but then at Rim.

Two lines of thought clashed in Owen’s mind in the frantic silence. How did Rim find them now, of all times? And now, why was she stopping, after she was one blast away from killing Enet? What changed?

Something clicked in Owen’s mind. A haphazard answer to both questions.

He glanced down at his bag for a split second and then looked at Rim again. “Hey! You know what…?!” He dug through his bag; Rim leaned forward curiously. Owen pulled out his Eviolite-Everstone amalgam. That was when Owen saw it—her eyes, those huge eyes, bulging out just a tiny bit more.

Owen threw the stone behind him. It hit the ground softly and rolled on the grass, landing a few feet behind Enet. “Now what?!” Owen shouted at the Espurr.

For several agonizing seconds, they were completely silent. Enet had her eyes locked on Rim. Owen felt the unstable power coursing through him—if he moved too much, he might evolve right then. Amia and Anam were slowly catching up, struggling through the thick underbrush. Anam struggled the most and was far behind the Gardevoir; he tried flying over, but that just spattered him against a tree trunk that blended in perfectly with the darkness.

“Mn…” Rim finally hummed. She looked up, and then closed her eyes. A swirl of light enveloped her, and then she disappeared.

“Teleport…” Owen muttered. She was gone, but the tension didn’t fade. It was a hot, tight feeling in his chest. “Oh—” He held his head and a bright light surrounded him. “Oh, w-wait!” he said, but then felt the power of evolution take hold. It was too familiar for him. No Pokémon should have to experience more than two of these, and how many times did he go through it? At least a hundred… This time, he was aware enough of the process to _feel_ his body shift and change, bones lengthening, scales softening and hardening. It wasn’t painful, but the fear that accompanied the transformation made it much worse than Owen had hoped.

He saw black sparks fly out of his body. He never understood what those were. Normal evolutionary light had no such darkness. It always felt like a part of him was being unchained, like a weight lifted from his spirit. He didn’t like what he felt when that weight lifted. He focused—he had to stay calm. Stay _calm_. Don’t let it take over. He was Owen. He will remain as “Owen.”

When the light faded, Owen sighed softly and stared at his claws. Charmeleon again… But he still felt that power rushing through him. It was flowing, building, ready to burst. The tension just didn’t stop!

“H-help!” Owen shouted. “I—I think I’m—”

A light enveloped Owen again; Owen’s fear tripled. Would this be all he could remember? His last memory?

Amia readied a special aural strike for when he evolved. That’s when Owen realized what his choice would be. Lose his memories all over again, or lose himself forever.

Owen was trying to resist it—but it was just too strong. What if he just _didn’t_ evolve? That would be so much easier. Just so he could be _himself_ for a little while longer. But it was a futile battle. He couldn’t keep it bottled up.

Would this be it? Would he even be able to revert back with the help of others? His Mysticism was a lot stronger, after all. What if he didn’t go back? What if Amia’s seal didn’t work? What if he was crazy forever?

Blackness danced around his arms and chest. The last of whatever energy it was that sealed him away was rapidly fading.

Forgetting everything, Owen’s eyes squeezed shut and he screamed. His mind became a muddled mess of wordless fear. His very spirit struggled to hang on to what sense of identity it had left, some primal fear that _he_ would disappear taking over. That “Owen” would—

The light suddenly stopped. Vanished. No black, no white. Just his red scales. Owen felt the energy sink away. Down. Deep down, sealed within.

And for some reason, he felt something hard and cold on his back. He heard his heart and felt it threatening to burst from his chest. His legs felt like they’d give way at any moment. His arms trembled. _Breathe, breathe_ , Owen thought, trying to steady himself. He thought back to his meditation.

The object on his back followed his spine and touched his right shoulder. He finally had enough composure to figure out what it was and brought his hand back to grab it. He found Enet’s paw instead. The unexpected feeling startled him enough to shout, “Enet!” He spun around.

Enet shoved the thing back against Owen. He finally grabbed it. Heavy and round, and a bit rough against his claws. He stared dumbly at the Eviolite-Everstone. His fire—which had been a fearful white—slowly settled down to its warm orange and red.

“You… need this?” Enet asked curiously, looking down at him. The Zoroark was still much larger than him.

“I… yeah,” Owen said. “I do need this. I… I guess it scared Rim off, though, so that’s good.”

Owen’s legs finally gave out. He collapsed to a kneel, putting his free hand to the ground.

Amia finally breathed. She rushed to his side to keep him from collapsing completely. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said. “Owen! Don’t do something so reckless! What if…!”

“We would’ve died if… I mean…” Owen looked took a second to gather himself. “I’m just glad that I’m not crazy.”

“Y-yeah!” Anam said. “But… don’t throw it away again! You evolved so fast!”

“Mhm,” Owen said. “I think… if I ever throw that stone away again, I’ll evolve,” he said. “I’m… am I really that unstable?”

“Unstable isn’t the right… word,” Amia said. “Maybe you’re… just…”

“It’s too much power to contain,” Star said, summoned by Anam this time—and therefore, she was only slightly transparent. “I… don’t really know what’ll happen if you…” she trailed off. “Owen, what did it feel like when you were evolving? Were you… angry? Or…?”

“No,” Owen said. “When I was evolving… I just kept feeling afraid. I kept trying to remember who I was, and who was important to me… but…” Owen trembled. “I—I was just s-so…”

Owen felt something huge and warm wrap around his body. He abruptly looked up and saw a Magmortar holding him firmly, pulling him close.

“Dad…”

“It’s okay, Owen,” Alex said. “It’s okay. It’s okay…”

“I thought I’d forget you…”

Star spoke delicately. “…And did you?”

Owen shook his head. “I—I don’t know, Enet got to me before that happened.” He moved to a sitting position, still too mentally weak to stand. He rubbed his eyes with the back of the hand that held the stone. “So, I didn’t forget anything. I was just…” Owen’s voice caught in his throat. “I—c-can I talk later? I n-need a second. I’m f-fine. I just…”

“Hey, take all the time you need, buddy,” Star said, looking up. “I don’t think Rim’s gonna bother us for a while.”

Owen took a few minutes to contain himself. During that silence, Anam settled next to a rock with James. The two of them helped pluck out mushrooms and other forest debris from Anam’s body, tossing them into a pile for the ferals to enjoy when they left.

Alex refused to let Owen go. He had his cannons wrapped in an X over Owen’s chest, and the Charmeleon happily sat in his lap without protest, occasionally leaning against the left one. Amia sat nearby, rubbing Owen’s shoulders. Every so often, the Charmeleon let out little whimpers, wiping his eyes. He refused to acknowledge that he was crying.

Enet prodded at Owen’s other shoulder. He glanced at the Zoroark. “Enet?”

“Gift.”

Enet had an Oran Berry in her paws—how she got it, Owen had no idea. She was so lithe and silent that he didn’t even realize she had left. The thought surprised him—he was usually so aware of his surroundings as a Charmeleon. Perhaps the shock, the distractions, and the fact that he had _just_ evolved dulled it more than usual. His breathing eased at the theorizing, feeling just a bit more relaxed.

She bumped the berry against his snout, narrowing her eyes. “ _Gift_ ,” she repeated impatiently.

“Oh—sorry,” Owen said. He took the berry, gulping to clear his throat of some invisible obstruction. He finished it in two bites. The warmth was concentrated in his belly and radiated out through the rest of him from there.

“Better?” Enet asked.

He wasn’t—he didn’t feel particularly injured from the fight. This was a mental wound. But Enet perhaps didn’t understand that, so he gave her a smile. “A lot better,” he told her.

Enet stared at Owen with an unsatisfied frown. She squeezed under Alex’s arm—he protested weakly, but figured she didn’t mean any harm. She squished herself between the Magmortar’s right cannon and Owen’s body, wrapping her arms around him until he sank into her fur.

“Not better,” she said, snorting. “Hurt.”

“Enet—what’re you—?” Owen said.

Enet made a strange sound between a growl and a purr, shoving the thick, red hair on her head into Owen’s face. Owen winced—it was still a bit damp from the river and smelled of mud and mushrooms—but his position made it very difficult to fight against it.

“What’s she doing?” Amia said.

“Aww,” Star said, leaning forward in the air. “She’s trying to hide him in her fur like a little hatchling.”

“I’m—not a kid—!” Owen protested, hand bursting out from the fur.

Enet growled and shoved Owen back inside. The Charmeleon relented in a huff, but after a few seconds in the darkness, he started to enjoy it. It insulated him like a warm blanket. His father’s solid body behind him, and the thought of everyone else around him, felt better than even the most persistent Protect.

Owen wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but at some point, Amia spoke up.

“Anam,” she said. “What… happened back there? At the lake?”

“Huh?”

“Your… your voice changed. I don’t know who it was, but it definitely wasn’t James. It was… it almost sounded feminine! Did one of your spirits possess you?”

“Mm…” Anam held the side of his arm. “They wanted me to attack Rim… but I knew it might’ve hurt you if I did… m-my power is really, really scary.”

Owen felt a phantom pain in his hands. They always heard that Anam was the strongest Heart, but they never saw him attack. The most they saw was that ‘fun’ sparring match against Roh when climbing Manny’s spire. And even then, that was just Anam’s raw power—not his Ghostly powers. Even on missions, when he went on them when no other Heart could accomplish some task, he usually just hugged his enemies into submission, or otherwise found some nonviolent way to subdue them. He always said his actual fighting would hurt them too much.

Owen believed him. Even now, it felt like his hands were tingling from some strange rot, even though that pain was gone. Like his very aura was still healing from the blast.

“I’ll be more careful,” Anam said quietly. “Sorry, Owen…. Does it still hurt?”

“No,” Owen lied. “But, uh, it goes away, right?”

Anam nodded. “You’ll be okay. Um—actually, let me help.” He slowly stood up, picking out the last mushroom from his arm. Enet hissed and shrank away, wanting nothing to do with his slimy body. Owen moved forward and politely held out his hands.

Anam closed his eyes and waved a slimy finger over both, mumbling something under his breath. A little, golden light sparked from his finger toward Owen. His claws reflexively clenched from the burst of energy, but the pain went away instantly.

“There,” Anam said. “I’m sorry…”

Owen shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “You were trying to help scare Rim away. But I guess that wasn’t enough.” He sighed, looking into his bag again where he had placed his sealing stone.

“But Rim ran away when I threw this away. Why did she run? What if… I’m strong enough to…?”

“As a Mod Charizard?” Star said. “I think you’ll beat her. Mmmaybe. That’s why she ran. But to be honest, Anam could’ve, too. Again, maybe. To be honest, she’s been getting stronger, too, with the whole Psychic Orb thing…” Star shook her head. “No telling. But one thing I’ll say is that you’d be way more mobile than Anam. That’s probably why she didn’t run away.”

“Hm,” Owen said. He somehow doubted that, looking at Star carefully.

“What?” Star asked.

“I don’t think you’re right.” He looked down. “I’d just go crazy. I feel like there’s more to it. If I evolved completely… I wouldn’t be strong enough, would I? I’d just be undirected.”

Star said nothing, like she was trying to find her words.

“Good thinking on stopping that,” Alex spoke up, looking down at Owen with a wide grin.

“More like good thinking for Enet keeping me from going too far,” Owen said, smiling at the Zoroark.

“I did good?” Enet asked.

Owen giggled. “Yes!” Finally finding the energy to get out from his father’s embrace, he stood up, tail burning as bright as the light in his eyes. He balled his claws into a fist. “Now—how about we go home? Wanna come with us, Enet?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh!” Anam said. “That’s right! Um, actually—let me go and tell Nevren!”

Thoughts rushed back to Owen in an instant. The other answer to the questions he’d asked himself during that tense silence against Rim. Nevren.

Anam found the communicator. “He should know that we got Enet safe and—”

“Wait,” Owen said. “Don’t tell him.”

“D… don’t?” Anam said. “Why?”

The Charmeleon hesitated.

“Owen?” Amia asked.

Owen looked at her. He saw recognition in her eyes. She understood. He was planning something or thinking about something troubling him. Problem solving—Owen was remarkable at it, mapping things out at a pace that would make anyone’s head spin. It was just a part of how he was created—how he was designed… but that was just for the surrounding area. It had nothing to do with logic. He didn’t have a _talent_ for that, did he? What if he was just mistaken? Paranoid?

“…Never mind,” Owen said. “I just wanted to make sure Rim wasn’t still around, but I can’t sense her.”

“Oh, okay,” Anam nodded. “Good thing you did. That’d be bad if I told him we were fine and then she attacked!”

Owen nodded, but then glanced at Amia pleadingly. The Gardevoir nodded again, assuring him silently that she would ask for the real answer later.

“Nevren! We’re okay!” Anam said. “Rim tried to attack us, but Owen scared her off!”

“O-Owen did? How? Did—is he okay?” Nevren asked.

“Yeah! He evolved to a Charmeleon, but that’s it! He almost evolved into a Modizard, but then Enet stopped it! It was so cool!”

“Modizard…?” Owen grumbled. “Can we stop making combo-names of my species…? Grassmander, Charmelon, Florizard… isn’t that enough?”

“Char… melon,” Amia said. “Who told you that one?”

Owen’s face flushed. Nobody had. “Uh—Mispy did. But she probably doesn’t remember anymore.”

“Ah,” Nevren said. “Very good. Return with Enet so we can have another Guardian on our side, safely.”

“Got it!” And with that, Anam shoved the communicator into his chest. “Let’s go!”

<><><> 

The whole town was having dinner together in the square—it wasn’t anything grand. Most of it was actually centered around those who _had_ to eat—the three others that were part of Owen’s set, Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi. Owen, for the sake of nostalgia, got himself a small portion and excused himself to his room to unwind—nobody really protested, after what he went through. He made a glance at Zena and they briefly locked eyes. The Milotic nodded, quietly waiting in line to get a small portion for herself to enjoy. She’d follow him after.

“So, he scared off Rim by evolving, and threatening to evolve a second time?” Demitri said. “Now I _really_ want to evolve! …But stay sane.”

“Mm,” Mispy nodded, bobbing her leaf. “How much longer?”

“I’m not really sure,” Rhys said, crossing his arms. “Hrrmn… well. I suppose that—ngh!” Rhys abruptly turned around, feeling something brush against his back. Enet flinched and stepped away. “Ah—Enet, is it…?”

The Zoroark stared at Rhys warily.

“I think she’s nervous about your Type, Rhys,” Amia said delicately.

“Ah, I see…” Rhys said. “I apologize, Enet. Would you like me to keep my distance?”

Enet nodded.

Rhys flinched. He usually got a polite ‘no, it’s okay’ response, but Enet just wanted him gone. “A-am I truly that intimidating?”

“Don’t use too many big words, Rhys,” Amia said. “She isn’t very good at speaking our language yet.”

Enet growled.

“I—I see…” Rhys said. “I’ll… I’ll just speak with my students.” He shuffled off.

Amia sighed. “Poor guy,” she giggled. “Oh well. She’ll warm up… won’t you, Enet?”

Enet shrugged and eyed the food.

“Oh! D’you want to eat? Well—go, eat! You can!”

“I can?” Enet asked uncertainly. “But…”

“Oh, it’s for everyone! Please, Enet, go eat! It looks like some of us went out to gather some food for everyone, so it should be just fine.” Amia nodded. “Oh, that’s right!” she said, slapping her hands together. “Zena!”

“Y-yes?” Zena said, jumping at the sudden attention. She had been only seconds away from leaving for Owen.

“The friend you mentioned to me,” she said. “The one that you said Anam reminded you of. What species was she?”

“Species…” Zena said. “Friend…? What do you mean?” The Milotic blinked curiously, as if she didn’t know what Amia was talking about at all.

Amia blinked. “What?”

“You said something…” Zena said. “That Anam reminded me of someone?”

“…I did?”

Rhys, in the middle of walking away, stopped and glanced at the two. “Is something the matter?” he asked. “Amia, you were just asking Zena about a friend she mentioned—that Anam reminded her of.”

Zena and Amia both looked at Rhys dumbly. “What do you mean, dear?” Amia asked.

“I…” Rhys blinked. “…What? Do you not remember? Zena?”

“I do remember someone that Anam reminds me of,” Zena said. “But I can’t remember what she looked like… Are you sure you asked me about her?”

“I think I did…” Amia said.

Suddenly alarmed at the rapid forgetfulness of the two Guardians, Rhys said, “Are you two all right? Your memory problems are even more concerning than Team Alloy’s.”

Amia crossed her arms, pursing her lips. “Goodness, that’s confusing. It was during dinner some time ago. Oh, that’s right! You _did_ tell me the species!” She said. “It was a Lugia!”

Rhys’ paws _barely_ flashed with the blue flame of aura, but he masked it before anybody noticed. “Ah, I see,” he said. “That’s—quite an extraordinary Pokémon to be friends with, Zena. How in the world would you forget that? Have you met her recently?”

“I haven’t,” Zena said. “You’re right. I can’t believe I forgot about her. She was such a wonderful friend…. But I didn’t find her in the spirit world at all. Yes, now I remember.”

“How long have you been away, Zena? Perhaps she’s still around,” Amia said. “Ohh, we should go searching for her! A Lugia! That’d be hard to miss!”

“Hrm,” said Rhys. “Well, another time. It’s late.”

Amia nodded, but then spotted Enet scarfing down her meal. She giggled; seeing the wild Pokémon indulge warmed everyone’s spirits. With the dinner get-together lively, Amia took the opportunity to slip away and find Owen. “Oh, Zena?” She realized they were going in the same direction.

“Oh, I’m sorry—I was going to eat with Owen. Is that a bother?”

“No, no, not at all! I’m glad he’s making new friends,” Amia said. “Please, come with me.”

Once inside her home, she summoned Alex, and then gently knocked on the wall of Owen’s room before stepping inside. He was almost finished with his small meal. “Owen, dear?” Amia said.

“Oh, Mom, Dad,” Owen said. “Hey, uh… Sorry, I was just thinking. The noise gets distracting. Oh—Zena. Yeah, hey.”

“Mm.” Zena gave a polite nod. “Are you feeling well?”

“Not really,” Owen said with a nervous titter. “I kinda almost died and also almost went crazy back there. I think I’m a little shaken up.” Owen held out his right hand to demonstrate. It still trembled a bit. The stew in the Aspear bowl in his left hand shook as well. “I’ll be fine. To be honest… I don’t think I was in any danger against Rim… but Enet was. And… and when I almost evolved again…”

“All the way to Charizard?” Zena said worriedly. “Why, you left as a Charmander!”

Owen tapped at the bag around his shoulder. “Nevren gave me an Eviolite, but it was actually also an Everstone. When I tossed it away, I…”

“Oh,” Zena said. “If you tossed it again…”

Owen nodded. “But… Rim barely tried to attack me. She was going after Enet, but not… _me_. I think that’s something that was bothering me, too. Why…?”

“It’s okay,” Amia said. “You were very strong, Owen. And you’re safe now. I don’t know why that Hunter is acting the way she is, either, but… you should just relax.”

Owen relented, nodding. It was just going to get him more worked up.

Zena slithered closer to Owen and wrapped around his bed, holding her bowl of stew in her ribbons. She looked to the Charmeleon, then at his parents, almost as if asking for permission.

Without thinking, Owen leaned back, using Zena’s coils as a rest. “I definitely need a break,” he said. But he still seemed troubled, and he knew that the three with him would pick up on it.

“Owen, you wanted to say something before we headed back,” Alex said. “What was it? I saw from Amia’s eyes—it was like you…?”

Owen nodded, but he stalled for time by finishing the last of his stew. “…You can’t tell anybody else, okay?” Owen finally said. “Not yet. I don’t even know if I’m right or not, I just… it’s kinda just this feeling I got when I pieced things together in my head. The way everything is starting to kinda slide into place and all that.”

“Slide into place,” Zena repeated.

“How Rim is getting to these places so fast, and how she just follows us so easily,” Owen said. “The way she reacted when I was evolving, and that stone that’s keeping me from evolving completely. All of that, and everything before… I think… I know what it might be.” He looked down at the stone in his hand—the _gift_ he was given. “I don’t… know if Nevren’s being honest with us.”


	32. Nevren's Loyalties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning home, Owen and his team introduce Enet to the Mystic family. Meanwhile, he expresses his suspicions about one of their members. Said member continues his work for the team while conversing with an enemy.

The more Owen thought about it, the stranger it all became. Nevren’s actions seemed friendly at first, but the peculiar things that he did from time to time, specifically with Owen, made him suspicious. The gift that he was given to suppress his evolution, _right_ before he became Mystic, and the traditional suppression methods wouldn’t have been enough? His entire past in _creating_ them, designing Mod Pokémon? And then, most of all—and what made Owen still scratch his scaly head—what exactly was that vision he had on the mountain, during his trial? Nevren tried to attack him back then, but it was all a dream. It was, right? He wasn’t hurting at all when it was over, and he _knew_ he dealt a horrible blow onto Nevren, too. So, what was that all about? Was it really the altitude? No… it was something else.

Owen tried to explain this to Amia and Alex, but they seemed less sure. “Are you sure that you aren’t just a little worn out?” Amia said. “To be honest, all I want to do is rest for the night. Don’t you? Nevren may have not told you that the stone would keep you from evolving because then you’d try to evolve—and that’s just not a good idea right now… right? Why don’t you just rest?”

“I guess I could be a little tired,” Owen said. “But… I don’t know.”

“Just… just don’t throw away that stone, okay?” Alex said. “Getting too far away from it just might evolve you, and we can’t have that. Not yet.”

“Because I’ll go crazy?” Owen said.

“W-well… yes?” Amia said delicately. “I think we all agree that we might not be ready for that. You still need some time to meditate.”

“But do I?” Owen said. “What if I’ve been ready this whole time, and this stone is holding me back?”

“N-now, Owen, let’s not…”

“What if I got rid of it and evolved when I was calmer? I bet I’d be fine after that,” Owen said. “Then I could take on Rim and the other Hunters no problem. It’d all be over. I bet I’d even rescue all of the other Guardians that are lost and afraid…. So why don’t I try it?”

“B-Because, dear,” Amia said in a slow, yet frantic tone, “don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions? The last time you evolved, you still went—”

“I went crazy, but I was stressed! Attacked by Azu! What happened after that? When I won? Was I still angry?”

“I… I mean…” Amia said. “Not… not really, but… but you were shaking, and shivering—and I know that you were trying your hardest to keep it together. You weren’t ready, even after the fight was over. I… it’s just not good yet, okay? Even if Nevren _might_ not be totally on our side—maybe you evolving isn’t good for _either of us_.”

Owen flinched. “I… I mean…” He turned away. “I guess that’s a possible answer….”

“I don’t want to risk it yet,” Amia said. “Can you just wait a little while longer? We—we’ll try evolving you later. When we can be sure we’ll turn you back… if it doesn’t work out.”

The Charmeleon huffed. “Okay,” he said. “…But I get to stay as a Charizard for a little while, okay? If I’m not attacking anybody, then it should be just fine, right?”

“Y-yes… okay, Owen… I know you want to do it, and we can’t force you to _not_ evolve, so…. Let’s just schedule a time for it to happen, alright? Will that be okay?”

“…Two days,” Owen said. “I want to try evolving in two days. And this counts as the first day. So, tomorrow morning—after that morning, the next morning.”

Amia sighed. She really trapped herself with that one. “Not… three days?” she asked.

“Two days,” Owen said, prodding at his remaining food. He dumped the rest into his mouth and stood up to put the bowl away.

Alex watched his son go, and then shook his head. “…He’s certainly going through that rebellious phase… again… isn’t he?”

Amia rubbed her head. “He’s probably remembering all the other times he went through it,” she said. “Ohh, why does he need to be so clever… He trapped me in my own argument!”

“You could have just said three days,” Alex said.

“Then he would have just tossed his stone today,” Amia said, pouting. “But… I can’t blame him. You have to look at it from his perspective—he doesn’t even know who he really is, in a way. And now he wants to claim it.”

“But he might lose himself completely…” Alex said.

“We’ll fix it if that happens,” Amia said, glancing at her hands. “Just like always…”

“…But… but will it work?” Alex said.

Amia hesitated. “…I’m going to train,” she said. “Just that attack. To make sure I can do it right, and do it strong, to buy us some extra time.”

“Strong,” Alex said. “I think we’re all going to have to be strong for this—including Owen.”

Outside, Owen stepped through the caves again, admiring the dim glow of the mushrooms. He looked at his pouch, and then took the stone out of it. He stared for a while. What would happen if he just tossed it into the lava? If he headed down to the flaming river and… just got rid of it? Would he evolve right there? Would he feel perfectly normal? Would he remember everything, and take down the Hunters, just like that? Was it that easy? Could Nevren be holding him back this entire time, just with this gift? Could he have saved Cara and Forrest? They’re dead, now, because they were too slow, too weak.

Owen jolted when the sound of something metallic tumbling to the ground echoed out of the cave. Rhys cursed from his room in the cavern to the right.

For the briefest moment, Owen eyed the home with suspicion. He was a Hunter, too. But then, Owen recalled that Rhys had made a Promise to Zena that he’d abandon that position. He couldn’t kill another Guardian, let alone betray them.

Hesitating, Owen walked into Rhys’ home and tapped the back of his claw against a walked inside.

“Ah, hello, Owen,” Rhys said, a tinge of irritation in his voice, which Owen interpreted as toward the mess in front of him, rather than the Charmeleon’s approach. It seemed that one of Rhys’ shelves broke under the weight of another memento that Rhys had apparently found on the ground. It appeared to be a Dusk Stone from Nightshade Forest. What use would he ever have for that? Owen rolled his eyes. He probably thought it’d be ‘useful someday.’ Even with his clouded memories, that phrase associated with Rhys was very familiar.

Owen dug through his bag and set down the Everstone-Eviolite. “Rhys?” he said. “Did you always know Nevren gave me this to keep me from evolving?”

Rhys dropped the Fire Stone he’d been holding.

“You did.”

Rhys sighed. “You were evolving very quickly, Owen. It was an emotional strain on your mother. That goes double, after you wound up becoming the Grass Guardian. It makes suppressing your true form… difficult.”

“Oh,” Owen said, nodding. That much made sense. He could only imagine how hard it was for Amia and Alex to keep up with him, constantly worrying that he’d evolve in the wrong place at the wrong time….

Owen rubbed his head. “The sooner my memories are totally back, the better.” He paused, remembering why he’d approached in the first place. “Rhys, er—about Nevren, actually. I…” he hesitated, realizing that, if Rhys knew about it, and Rhys was no longer a Hunter, then the likelihood of Nevren still being a Hunter was slim to none.

He asked anyway, just to be sure. “Why do you trust Nevren? He’s so… blank. I can never get a read from him. And he used to be a Hunter, just like you. What makes you trust him?”

Rhys looked at Owen, humming thoughtfully. Then, he sighed, and continued to arrange his items on the repaired shelf. “I promised Nevren that I would not tell him about the moment we shared.”

“Uhh—” Owen blushed.

“Not in that way,” Rhys hissed.

Owen waited for an alternative explanation.

Rhys sighed irritably. “A very long time ago, Nevren behaved as Anam’s strategist. He was working in a mutual interest between the Hunters and the Association to stabilize the world during a chaotic era, before the Thousand Heart Association established its roots across all of Kilo. One day,” he said, “near the end of this chaos, Nevren approached me. And… he confessed to me that he had been aligned with the Hunters for quite some time. But that he had an epiphany.”

“An epiphany?” Owen said. “Wait—so Nevren _was_ still a Hunter?”

“We didn’t necessarily call ourselves that at the time,” Rhys admitted. “But yes. And it was on that day of his epiphany… that I saw Nevren as the most emotional Pokémon I’d ever seen him as. Now, it was nothing dramatic. He did not cry. He did not shout. Frankly, he did not do much than he usually did. But his eyes, Owen.” Rhys looked down at a small bag of marbles. “His eyes were alive with light. The light of a Heart. He said that the Association deserves the world.” Rhys closed his eyes. “Ever since that day, I noticed that, while working with Anam, he seemed… somehow happier. Content. That’s the word. As if he knew what he wished to do with himself.” Rhys chuckled. “I envy a Pokémon who knows such peace.”

Owen listened quietly, but then hung his head in shame. “He really just wants to help,” he said. “Oh, Mew. I feel bad just for thinking he was sabotaging us.”

“Sabotaging?” Rhys said.

Owen nodded. “Rim’s been catching up to us every time we talk with the communicators. Or, that’s kinda how I noticed it.”

“Rim is also the Psychic Guardian, unfortunately,” Rhys said. “And while I doubt that grants her the ability to see into the future, I suspect it heightens her perceptive range—and aura senses—significantly. We also know that they likely have a means of tracking Guardians as well.”

“Oh,” Owen said. “…Right… I… forgot about that.”

The evidence fell apart in Owen’s mind. It was all circumstantial. Nevren was just trying to help with all of his inventions. He thought about how he had advanced the whole world with his technological marvels. He, along with James, managed almost everything to do with the Association’s bookkeeping, keeping the world peaceful and stable.

He gave his whole life to the Association. And just because he gave him an evolution-suppressing stone, he thought he was a liar. When in the end, it was just so he could stay sane, and to help his parents cope.

“Hey, Owen!” Gahi shouted.

This broke the Charmeleon’s chain of thought. “Wh—what?”

“Let’s train! I wanna evolve like yeh got to!”

The levity was just what he needed. “Oh—okay,” Owen said. “Sure! Yeah…” He couldn’t deny the joy in battles, even if it was an instinct that he was born with. Perhaps he could forget about that for at least a little while.

“Thanks, Rhys,” Owen said.

Rhys smiled. “I would trust Nevren with my life, Owen. I’m sorry that we lied to you.”

Owen shook his head. “I get it,” he said, and then left.

In the hall, before meeting up with Gahi and the others, he looked down at the stone again. Just carrying it around, hoping it would keep him sane, wasn’t going to cut it after a while. Maybe Amia had a point. Maybe evolving should wait until he was definitely, totally ready for it. But how else would he be able to ensure he’d have it with him? A dull headache pulsed through him, and he recalled in a previous life, an Aerodactyl stealing his bag, including the stone. It seemed a lot more believable that he’d lose it when it was the least convenient.

But how was he supposed to keep that from happening again? Owen pondered, tail-fire dimming to his deep concentration. And then, an idea came.

 

“Please… leave me be,” Valle said.

Enet tilted her head, sniffing at the feet of the stone Shiftry.

True to form, the Rock Guardian did not move.

“This is not something that I am used to,” Valle said. “Enet, Guardian of Electricity, this is too close.”

Enet tilted her head to the other side, pacing around Valle. “Not move?” she asked.

“I do not move. All is stillness,” Valle said.

“But… I move,” Enet said.

“I am the Guardian of Rock,” Valle said. “It is not my place to do such…” he trailed off.

“Can’t you move?” Enet asked.

“I can, but I choose not to.”

“Why?”

Valle was silent. “It… is simply something that I have grown accustomed to.”

“But other Rock Pokémon move,” Enet said, using her claw to pull at her lower right lip. “So why can’t you? Is it because you went crazy?”

“I—did not go crazy, as you call it,” Valle said. “I… built a tolerance to the solitude.”

“Solitude…?” Enet repeated.

“…Being alone,” Valle said.

“Oh,” Enet nodded, sitting down. “Being alone… hurts,” she said.

Valle took a few seconds to reply. “It… does. Yes. It did. But I grew used to it.”

Enet frowned and made her way back to the front of Valle. “But you aren’t alone! So… move again!”

“Move, again…?”

By now, a few others passing by were listening in on the conversation, wondering what Enet was trying. Most just let Valle do as he wanted, but now….

ADAM buzzed curiously. “Valle, do you wish to change your protocol?”

“I… am unsure,” Valle said. “I don’t know if I know how to move.”

“Move!” Enet said, waving her arms around. “Easy!”

“Easy…” Valle said uncertainly.

A distant explosion shook the caves, though the walls were too strong to risk the area collapsing. It was likely reinforced by Amia’s power.

“That must be the modified Pokémon fighting,” Valle said.

“Modi…?” Enet puffed out her cheeks. “Use easy words!”

“The Pokémon that become something strange when they evolve,” Valle said.

“Strange?” Enet asked. “Oh! Owen!” she said. “And the other four…?”

“…Three,” ADAM said.

Enet blinked and counted her claws, but then huffed and turned around. “I don’t like numbers,” she said.

“Numbers are everything,” ADAM replied.

Enet growled again. “Dumb,” she said.

Valle was still as always, but he appeared to be observing their movements carefully. The unmoving Guardian spoke, “Are you… sure?” he said.

“Sure?” Enet asked. “Huh?”

“…About… movement,” Valle said. “Is it… safe to do?”

“…Yes?” Enet asked, wiggling her arms. “Moving is easy!”

Valle was silent again. “I can float… and I can slide,” he said. “But… I have not moved in a mountain’s age.”

Enet tilted her head. She clearly didn’t understand the analogy. “Mountains age?”

“Do you plan to move, Valle? Are you certain that is the best choice?” ADAM asked.

“I don’t know,” Valle said. “…Stillness… I need stillness.”

“How come?” Enet asked.

Valle couldn’t answer.

“Move!” Enet encouraged, jumping once in the air. “It’s easy! How about… arm! Move your arm!” She wiggled her right arm.

“My arm… yes. My arm. I could move my arm,” Valle said. “That doesn’t sound very hard. The stillness… doesn’t need to be forever. Even other Rock Pokémon move. Mountains move, rarely… slowly…. I can move. Can’t I?”

“Yeah,” Enet said. “I think so. Right?”

There was a long silence again. Enet shifted awkwardly, eventually losing interest, though ADAM remained, watching Valle closely.

“Do you intend to move?” ADAM asked.

“I… yes. I will.” Slowly, almost imperceptibly, one of Valle’s arms twitched. And then moved again, and then… by roughly a mere ten degrees, the arm changed its angle. And then it stopped. The nearby cavern walls trembled, like the skipping of a heartbeat. “That… is enough movement for a while,” he said.

“Huh?” Enet looked back. “Oh! You moved! I think…?” Enet said, tilting her head at the rocky Guardian.

“I did,” said Valle. “…Thank you.”

“Yeah!” Enet said. But then, the Zoroark addressed ADAM. “How come you talk funny?”

ADAM buzzed in response. “Funny?”

“Yeah, that! Zzzz! What’s that?”

Adam twitched. “Zzzz? I am processing.”

“Processing?” Enet asked.

“Yes. I think. I must think. Sometimes things… puzzle me, and I require extra time to think.”

“So, you buzz when you think?” Enet asked.

ADAM buzzed again.

“That! What’s that?”

ADAM buzzed louder. “That is me thinking. I am annoyed.”

“Are you broken?” Enet asked.

“Far from broken! I am—optimal!” ADAM twitched furiously.

Enet giggled. “You use funny words!”

“Aaaaaaa,” ADAM said, followed by flying into a nearby building, perhaps to cool off his core units.

“…Enet,” Valle said. “Why do you think ADAM is broken?”

“Huh?” Enet asked. “So, he isn’t?”

“Well… he is certainly _odd_ ,” Valle replied. “But I attributed that to his species. Porygon-Z tend to behave… oddly, sometimes.”

“Oh,” Enet said. “He… smelled funny.” She sniffed the air. “The smell… of his, this,” she said, patting her chest.

“His… chest, had an odd smell.” Valle said.

“No,” Enet said. “The… this,” she said, pressing her claws deeper into her fur.

“His heart? …Does he have one?” Valle asked. “Ohh…” he said, recognizing the frustrated look on her face. “You mean his _aura_. All of our auras are strange. I’m surprised that you perceive auras by smell, Enet.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” said Valle. “I see it with sight.”

This was foreign to the Zoroark.

“Well, in any case, perhaps he is just odd,” said Valle. “Now… Enet. Why don’t you see the others? I… must… be still, here.”

“You won’t move more?”

“Tch… I shall move in the future,” Valle said. “I promise.”

This was enough for the Wild creature. “Okay,” she said. And so, she bounded off.

 

An Alakazam sat in the middle of Anam’s old office, sorting through records and papers. “Hmm, interesting…” he said. “There are quite a few false alarms… a good handful of sightings in the Southern Ocean, but that’s likely due to the glowing moss at this season. Still, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to investigate further…”

“More reports, Elite Nevren!”

“Ah, thank you, put it on the desk!” Nevren called back. He sorted through more of the papers. “Ahh, I simply don’t have the time to look through every single one of these, do I? If only I could—hm, wait a moment. Why don’t I just—” Nevren paused. “…How long have you been there?”

“Eep—!”

Nevren sighed and turned around. “Rim, you know it’s rude to eavesdrop. Come on, show yourself.”

The Espurr appeared in a warping bend of light.

“Well, I take it you know where the next few Orbs are, do you? I imagine you’ll be sending Elder to do his negotiating first. A futile effort, you know. They’re very unlikely to agree to anything of the sort, simply giving up their power willingly like that…”

Rim glanced away.

“Yes, yes, I suppose you always have a bit of hope that you won’t have to take it away violently, but, hrm…” Nevren sighed. “Well. I suppose I can’t stop you. I’ve already tried convincing you quite a few times, you know. Ah, speaking of which, could you vanish for a moment?”

Rim stared at Nevren curiously.

“Just for a moment.”

Rim obeyed, disappearing. A few seconds later, a Golem stepped into the office. “We have another report,” he said.

“Ah, good. You were sent to the Arachna Forest?”

“Yes, er—we were, but… we don’t think anybody should go there anymore.”

“Oh? Is it _that_ dangerous?”

“Y-yes. Actually, about that, I’d… like to set up a Rescue Mission.”

“A Rescue Mission? …Where is the rest of your team?”

The Golem winced.

“…I see. I will set one up immediately.”

“Th-thank you.”

He left. Rim appeared shortly after.

“…Rim, if it’s not a bother,” he said, “are the Synthetics responsible for that?”

Rim shook her head immediately.

“But did we not send _quite a few_ of them there in the past? None returned. But their spirits never went into the aural sea, either—so it wasn’t as if they were killed. Are you sure they don’t simply get lost in their battle modes there?”

Rim shook her head. “But… I can’t…” she said.

“Hmm… well. Please, set up a team anyway in an attempt to rescue his Pokémon, Rim. Moderately strong Synthetics should do. Team of three? Be sure to set them to Scouting and not Battling.”

Rim nodded.

“Ah, and Rim,” Nevren said.

“Mm?”

“How many Orbs do you have at the moment? Which ones, between yourself and Eon?”

“…Psychic…” Rim said. “Flying, Ground…” she paused, but then nodded.

“Only three, hm?” he said. “You’re falling behind. At this rate, Owen will have you beaten for sure.”

Rim winced.

“No need to worry,” Nevren sighed. “After all, he didn’t align with Barky. Did you hear of that?”

“N-no…! What?” Rim asked.

“Yes! Quite surprising. Perhaps Rhys was right after all,” Nevren nodded, almost beaming. “Incredible, really. I’d go easy on him for that. Well, in any case, Frozen Oceanside may be a bit dangerous for them to handle, so I’d recommend gathering that Orb next. Ice Type, be wary of being frozen. The Pokémon there is quite hostile.”

“Mm.” Rim nodded, but then eyed the Alakazam carefully. “Owen…” she said.

“Hm? Owen?”

“Tried… to evolve…”

“Evolve…” Nevren said. “Yes, I heard. Is he ready?”

Rim bit at her lower lip.

“Hmm… Perhaps I should talk to him.”

“He might not… trust you…” Rim said.

“Ah,” Nevren nodded. “I suppose he _would_ be the first to know that. Well, aside from Rhys. I don’t think he trusts me, even now. What do you recommend?”

Rim tensed, shaking he head.

“Ah, sorry, sorry,” Nevren said. “I apologize. I’ll think it over myself—no need to be put on the spot, hm? Just ask Elder to speak to the Ice Guardian, and we can proceed from there. I will send Owen’s group to the Steel Guardian.”

Rim flinched. “S-Steel…? But that’s…!”

“I believe it is time,” Nevren said. “They will fail, but I think now is a good time for them to know about the Trinity. Besides, he is the least dangerous of the three. I won’t be sending them to Zero Isle, for one, or the Swamp of Purity.” Nevren sorted through the papers a bit. “…Thank you, Rim. That will be all. Ah, but do send a team to Arachna Forest on a rescue. Perhaps we’ll find another Guardian there.”

Rim nodded and vanished. Nevren spoke into his communicator. “Hello? Hello, is anybody there? I found another sighting--it’s a bit of an odd spot… not quite on the map….”


	33. Remnants of Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and a small, specialized team depart for the Steel Guardian. There, they encounter a strange facility from a world long lost...

“What’s so weird about it? Where on the map is it?” Owen asked.

Everybody had been gathered together in the center of town to speak to Nevren through his communication badge.

“It’s far off the coast, on a small island,” Nevren said. “Far, far south, on an old island, in fact. Quite difficult to get to normally. Only Mystics can approach it—it’s protected by a special barrier set up by the guardian within.”

“Factory…” Amia said. “I’ve heard that term before, but—what is it, again?”

“A facility that is built for the purpose of mass-producing something,” Nevren said. The communication device was quiet for a while after that. “…Hello?”

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you would say something,” Amia said. “I was just trying to figure out what this factory would be. But, um… What Type is this Guardian?”

“Well, it’s a factory, so, Steel,” Nevren said. “He’s quite at home there, from what I’ve gathered.”

“How’d you gather that?” Owen asked suspiciously. “Did you visit there yourself?”

“I have,” Nevren said. “Though, not to any success. I recommend… someone with a more effective moveset, yes?”

“Steel,” Owen repeated to himself, looking at the red scales on his arms.

“I c’n go,” Gahi shrugged. “Ground, eh? That’s real good against Steel.”

“I can, too,” Owen said. “Um… I guess Demitri and Mispy should stay back for this one, huh?”

The Axew and Chikorita wanted to protest, but they knew Owen was right. He always had the right plan, after all. “Okay, but what should we do while you’re gone?”

“Spar!” Owen said, nodding. “Actually, y’know what? When I come back, I want to see you two as a Fraxure and Bayleef, okay?”

“D-d’you think we can get there so soon?” Demitri said.

“Definitely,” Owen nodded. “I can feel it. I’m a Charmeleon already, after all, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re Mystic,” Demitri said.

“Well… either way, I think you’ll do it. Maybe spar with the other Mystics? The weaker ones, like Willow, or—”

“Weaker?!” Willow charged up for a Moonblast.

“I—I mean, th-th… the nicer ones! The nicer ones, who can go easy on them! R-right?”

“That’s _better_ ,” Willow huffed. The lunar sphere dissipated in a white-pink mist.

Owen sighed, holding his chest. At the very least, she was acting normal toward him. He thought she wouldn’t talk back to him again after that incident with Azu….

“If you’re going, Owen, then I should go, too,” Amia said. “And as the Fire Guardian, maybe I can help in fighting, too? I may not be the best fighter, but I’m still strong….”

“Okay, so that’s me, Mom, Gahi…” Owen said. “If I go crazy, d’you think that’ll be enough, Mom? If you make me a Charmander again?”

Amia flinched. “Y-you’re okay with that?” she asked.

Owen nodded. “I… I don’t want it, but it’s better than being crazy forever. But… if I evolve… can you make sure I’m crazy first?”

Amia nodded. “Of course! That’s that we were building toward this whole time!”

Rhys hummed worriedly. “Just in case,” he said, “I would like to accompany you as well. A team of four. My Fighting attacks will be effective.”

“That should be enough,” Nevren confirmed. “Now, hold out your maps. Do you see where Zero Isle is located?”

“No, um, is that…?” Amia said, unraveling their map.

“Start from Kilo Village, at the center of the map. Go south until you reach the ocean.”

“Oh, I know that spot!” Owen said. “Zena and I washed up there after we, uh, you know.”

“Hm, so we have a reference point,” Rhys said. “What then, Nevren?”

“You have to fly from there and head further south until you can see the archipelago with Zero Isle at the center. From that direction, you should head diagonally to the left—that is, southeast. You should see another landmass. That will be your location; if you search by aura, you will sense a powerful barrier blocking the way. Anybody too weak in the spiritual sense will be turned around in the opposite direction without realizing it. Mystics, by default, should be strong enough to pass through.”

“Eh, so what about me?” Gahi said, clicking his jaws. “I ain’t spiritual Mystic sparkly.”

“Your proximity should be enough. Perhaps ride on Owen’s back.”

“Wh-why me?” Owen said.

“I c’n do that.”

Owen sighed. “Okay, fine,” he said. “But, can I fly yet?”

“If you can’t fly, you can ride on me, dear,” Amia said.

“…Wait. Rhys? Can you fly for a long time?”

“To an extent,” Rhys said. “It may deplete my stamina a bit after some time, but, ah… I’m sure I will have time to rest once we arrive.”

“If you’re tired, you can always ride on me, dear,” Amia giggled. “I don’t mind.”

“I… shall… consider it,” Rhys said, turning his head away.

Amia clapped her hands together. “Okay! Then let’s get going!”

 

The horizon seemed to go on forever. It was an endless expanse of blue ocean along a lighter blue sky, speckled with white clouds. The only real detail they could see from this height was that of the clouds’ shadows cascading along the water below. Gahi clicked his jaws worriedly. “If y’drop me I’m gonna kill yeh,” he said.

“Not if the fall kills you first,” Owen murmured, adjusting his back carefully. “Rhys, are you sure that isn’t too hard for you?”

Owen and Amia were flying with their Mystic powers. He wasn’t sure how it worked; it felt like they were just _ignoring_ gravity and propelling themselves in whatever direction they wanted. Rhys was moving somewhat more traditionally – using a steady stream of aural energy from his paws, pointed behind him, to propel himself forward, much like a Golurk.

“I should be fine for quite a while,” Rhys said. “This aural energy is produced as quickly as I spend it with simple flight.”

“Oh, don’t lie, dear,” Amia said. “I can feel it depleting a tiny bit. Otherwise, you’d be flying like this all the time!”

“Ngh—perhaps by a _negligible_ amount…” Rhys said.

Amia looked at their map, and then ahead. “I think that’s Zero Isle,” she said.

Rhys nodded.

“Goodness…” Amia said. Their flying slowed down slightly, and they veered away from the archipelago—which appeared to be a spiral of beige sand in the middle of sky-colored saltwater. “Do you feel that?” she asked.

Owen felt a horrible tightness in his chest, like the sheer radiation of power was stopping his heart. “What _is_ that? It’s… coming from…”

“Feel what?” Gahi asked.

“I guess only Mystics can feel it,” Amia said. “Rhys?”

“…We should keep clear of Zero Isle for a while,” said Rhys. “A powerful Guardian is there, and we are simply not ready.”

“W-wait! A powerful Guardian? A friendly one?”

Rhys shook his head. “Not to us, no,” he said. “…Frankly, I’m not sure if the Steel one will be friendly, either.”

“How do you know?” Owen asked. “Did… did you try to attack that Guardian before? When you were a…?”

Rhys shook his head. “No,” he said. “But I fought her predecessor, who was…” he shivered slightly. “It’s not something that I like to think about.”

Owen nodded. “Okay. But, what Orb is it of? Do you know anything about her?”

“Later,” Rhys said, pointing ahead. “That’s the island we’re looking for, is it not?”

At the horizon was a grayish structure sitting atop a black ground. The water nearby had a dark residue around it as well. Owen wasn’t sure what to think about the odd color—he certainly wouldn’t drink it.

“That’s… a factory?” Owen said.

“Hm, it appears to be one, yes,” Rhys said. They lowered their altitude, heading for a firm trajectory right for the shore of this island, just beyond the dark water.

“What’s the weird… black stuff?”

“It may be remnants of decay,” Rhys said. “Factories tend to produce waste products like trash quite a bit. If it’s been here for such a long time, perhaps some of that product is simply leaking into the water…”

“That can’t be good…” Owen said.

“Well, it is a small factory in a large ocean. It shouldn’t be _too_ bad… I imagine…” Rhys trailed off. “Hrm. Well, regardless, it doesn’t seem to be spreading beyond this point. Perhaps we can look into cleaning it up later.”

They landed in the sand. There was something that felt… dirty about it. Owen winced at the ground, lifting his foot. “That’s a weird feeling. It’s… heavy. No, not heavy, but…”

“It feels like it’s more than just dirt and rock,” Amia nodded.

“We should wash in cleaner water when we return home,” said Rhys. “Particularly you, Gahi, since you aren’t Mystic.”

Gahi tilted his head down. “Ehh, I’ll stay on yer back fer now,” he said.

“W-wait, what?” Owen said; he was already lugging the giant Ground and bug-like pokemon on his back, holding his hands behind him. “G-Gahi! You’re a little bulky to be carried around like that!”

“I ain’t walkin’ on tainted ground! Carry me!”

“Nngh… okay,” Owen sighed. “But give me a second to….” He carefully pulled Gahi around his body until the bug was in front of him; Owen had his arms around Gahi’s abdomen, holding him gently against his chest.

Gahi leaned his head back, bumping it against the bottom of Owen’s neck. “Don’ squish me.”

“I won’t,” Owen said. “Let’s go. I’m gonna set you down once we’re on that solid ground, the… that’s a steel floor, or something?”

“It appears to be a special kind of stone,” Rhys said. “It’s called concrete.”

“Concrete…” Owen said. “I thought that was just a word that meant ‘really solid’?”

“Yes. The word came from that material, I believe. Or the other way around… hmm. Now I’m not sure,” he said.

“Concrete… Like a Conceldurr?”

“Somewhat, yes,” said Rhys. Their steps began to have sound; Owen looked down, puzzled at the new noise. So familiar… The feeling of claws on concrete. He then looked up at the factory—less familiar. In fact, he’d never seen such a structure before. It was many stories high, taller than the giant heart in the southern point of Kilo Village. Owen nearly fell backward from craning his neck so far; eventually, he had to stop to look into the entrance. It was too dark from the outside to tell what it was; there were only a few windows at the top of the large room, and they were small. He saw many strange structures inside of the factory; horizontal platforms that had little wheels and cylinders embedded into them, contraptions that looked like strange, new Steel Pokémon. Some of it looked quite shiny, like it was being sustained and washed—not dusty. It must’ve been the Guardian.

“What… is this?” Amia said.

On solid ground, Owen set Gahi down. The Trapinch tapped his head on the concrete. “This place ain’t too bad,” he said. “Good echo. I c’n tell where everything is here, heh…”

A metallic clinking noise echoed in the depths of the factory. A quick check revealed that there was a single, powerful aura in the building, aside from themselves. “Guess that’s the Guardian,” Owen said. “But hey, on the bright side, we don’t have to deal with crazy Mods anymore! Oh, wait.” He felt another aura—it was weaker, but he also recognized it. “I think Hecto’s here, too…” he mumbled.

“What was that, dear?” Amia asked.

“Do you guys know Hecto? Star’s, uh…?”

“Ah, yes, Hecto,” Rhys nodded. “If he’s here, then I imagine this will be a safer area, in a sense. Hecto is not very strong on his own. Perhaps we won’t have to fight, either. Let’s keep going.”

They walked through a narrower portion of the factory, next to some of the odd platforms nearby. Owen saw strange objects on top of these platforms, but he was too short to see what they were at a good angle. “What’re those?” Owen asked.

“What are what, dear?” Amia asked. “Oh! Those… things?” she asked, reaching out.

“Don’t touch them,” Rhys said quickly.

“O-oh?” Amia asked, flinching her hand away. “Okay. Are they… traps, or volatile Dungeon Orbs…?”

“Yes, in a sense,” Rhys said. “Now, let’s keep going. Don’t touch anything that doesn’t look familiar; this is a remnant from another realm, and we can’t be sure how it will react to us.”

“That’s… a weird way of phrasing it, Rhys,” Owen said. “But—okay.”

“Eh?” Gahi looked up. “What’re yeh all talkin’ about anyway? Weird li’l…” he trailed off. “What’s this orb yer talkin’? What’s it look like?”

“It kinda looks… I dunno. It’s kinda pretty, though. But it doesn’t look natural…” Owen shrugged.

“Hey.” This voice wasn’t familiar.

Owen looked ahead to see a bipedal figure with muscled arms and a shiny body. Metallic, indicative of the Steel Orb’s influence. His voice had a ringing tinge to it, too.

“H-hey, uh…” Owen hesitated. He wasn’t really sure how to acknowledge it. He said without thinking, “A Machoke, the Steel Guardian?”

“Not as dumb as you being the Grass Guardian.”

That one stung.

“A-ah, um,” Amia quickly held up her hands, “H-hello! Um… what’s your name? I’m Gardevoir Amia, this is Charmeleon Owen, that’s Lu—”

“Brandon Rezz,” the metal Machoke replied. “I know who you guys are. Don’t worry.”

Owen blinked slightly, as if he was trying to piece together something in his head. “Rezz?” he asked. “What Pokémon is a Rezz? I thought you were a Machoke. And you said your name backwards.”

“No, I’m a Machoke, sure,” Brandon said. “But my last name is Rezz.”

“…I don’t get it,” Owen said. “Brandon and Rezz both aren’t a species.”

“Where I’m from,” Brandon said, “everyone that talked was the same species. …Mostly. So, kinda stupid if we all had the same first name. So instead, we had unique last names that followed our family line. So, the same way you guys’ take the first names of your mother, the same species, I got my last name from my parents, too.”

“O-oh…” Amia said. “That’s interesting! But—you came from a realm that was all Machoke? I don’t know which part of your story I want to ask about first!”

Brandon gave off the smallest smirk. “No,” he said. “Not Machoke.” He turned around, staring at the sky. “I only have this form because it’s the most similar to what I used to be. I’m from the human world.”

“Oh! So… a Machoke… wait…” Amia said.

“While I gave it up a long time ago,” Brandon said, “I used to be human.”


	34. The Lost Human World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and the others talk with Brandon about the traditions of a world separate from their own. Then, they spar and test Brandon's foreign theories and traditions of battle.

“Humans…?” Owen repeated. “What do you mean, the human world? So, you used to be human?! But—but I thought humans were just a mythical creature!”

Brandon laughed. “No, they’re far from mythical,” he said. “If anything, they’re less impressive than Pokémon. They don’t know Moves, and they can’t really stand up to a Pokémon in a fight unless they’re very highly trained. They cheat and use special tools instead. Tools like these,” he reached over to the platform and picked up one of the strange, red-white orbs.

Rhys quickly went on his guard.

“Don’t worry, this one doesn’t work,” Brandon said. “This factory hasn’t been used in ages. The stuff on this assembly line is basically useless.” He dropped the orb to the ground, where it split into multiple fragile fragments. “So,” the Machoke went on. “I take it you’re here to have me join in your little games? Star’s little underlings against Arceus’ Trinity against Eon’s subjects.”

“Uh—hang on, what? To all of those things,” Owen said, holding a claw to his chest. “I’m not Star’s _underling_ , and what’s this about a Trinity? And Eon, uh, is that…?”

Brandon eyed Owen curiously. “You mean you aren’t aligned with Star or Barky?” he said. “Or Eon?”

“Aligned? What?” Owen squinted at Brandon. “I’m just… I’m just trying to make things right,” he said. “I want to stop the Hunters from killing the Guardians so we can just relax. It’s too hard to live alone like they’ve been…. I don’t want that. For anyone.”

This caught Brandon’s interest. The Machoke stopped surveying the walls and stared directly at Owen. He approached, his metallic feet making loud, clanging echoes across the abandoned factory. “…You… you’re still a Charmeleon,” he said.

“Y-yeah,” Owen said, holding his position with tensed muscles.

“Which means you can’t handle your true form yet. Like an awkward cocoon.”

“U-uh, I guess you could put it like that,” Owen said.

Brandon looked at Gahi next, kneeling down. “And you. You must’ve gone back to being a Trapinch, so you can’t handle it, either.”

“Yeah, what of it? I’m workin’ on it. Lay off.” Gahi clicked his jaws at Brandon. “I c’n evolve any time I want!”

“Oh?” Brandon said.

“Y-yeah, eh… jus’ gimme a second and I bet I could.”

“So, if I have you evolve right now, you can handle being a Vibrava?”

“Y-yeah! Totally! …Yeah, Owen?” Gahi asked. “I ain’t crazy as a Vibrava?”

“What? You were fine,” Owen said. “Were—were we crazy as that before, too?”

He looked at Amia and Rhys; they both looked away. “Ngh—so you didn’t even tell me that? How come this guy knows more about me than I do?”

“Well, Arceus told me about it, mostly,” said Brandon. “We chat. I’m part of the Trinity. Steel, Poison, and Dragon Orbs happen to be under Arceus’ loyalty. And we’re all too strong for _you_ , so I’d recommend you just head on back. Not even Rim wants to take me on.”

“W-wait,” Amia said, “we didn’t come here to fight if we didn’t have to.”

“Oh?” Brandon said. “Then how come you brought two Fire Types, a Ground Type, and a Fighting Type to the _Steel_ Guardian’s place?” he asked. “C’mon, I’m not stupid.”

Rhys flinched. “We were—just being careful, in case you were hostile.”

“Aside from the pretty one, you brought a Hunter and two Synthetics to meet me. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you guys on the spot.”

“P-pretty?” Amia said. “O-oh, dear…”

“We’re sorry if our arrangement was suspicious. I should have considered that,” Rhys said formally. “But we truly do want to do this peacefully, and it’s only for the benefit of the Guardians. I would like to point out that I made a Promise to one of the other Guardians to never kill one of your kind again. I can assure you that I am, by divine contract, safe. Will you come with us?”

“No deal,” Brandon said, holding up his hand. “I’m with Arceus on this one. Gathering the Orbs together is just asking for trouble, and I’d rather not stir the pot.”

“Did you make a Divine Promise to not come with us?” Owen asked.

“I made a Promise to keep myself away from the other Guardians,” he said. “It’s not a violation to allow them to approach me like this, but I’m not about to come with you guys. Got it?”

“But… but it’s not safe!” Owen said. “What if Rim gets even stronger? The Hunters already have three Orbs. What happens if they get more…? At some point, won’t you be overpowered?”

“Maybe,” said Brandon, “but I think Arceus has a better chance at handling them than I would, if that happens.”

Owen thought about this. Arceus could handle an overwhelming power—he believed that much. He was the Creator, after all. He witnessed his power firsthand; only Star could counter something like that. But if that was the case…. “Then why doesn’t he just do that now?” Owen asked.

“What do you mean? They aren’t a threat to him yet, so why bother?”

“Yeah, but why bother letting even a minor threat grow? They could eventually take him down. Shouldn’t he just… I dunno… smite the people who are trying to overthrow him?”

“Well… maybe,” Brandon said. “Maybe he’s showing them mercy by giving them an opportunity to take it all back, or something.” He shrugged. “Look, it’s not like I care all that much. I agree with him, so I’m gonna sit right here and keep things the way they are. It’s… the best thing to do.”

“The best…? What’s that even mean?” Owen said.

“Ahem.”

Amia jumped in surprise and spun around. “Wh-who--?”

“Hi, Hecto!” Owen waved. “I thought I sensed you. Uh… how come you’re here?”

The canid Zygarde made a soldier-like trot toward the group and gave a nod in greeting to Amia,. He addressed the group, “I am stationed here to keep a close watch on the factory and Brandon. The artifacts that are here cannot be tampered with. Destroying this place would risk releasing these objects into the ocean, which could then spread them essentially anywhere that has a shore. Therefore, it must simply be contained.”

“Okay, I get that,” Owen said, “but _what_ is this?” And why didn’t Arceus just annihilate the factory? Surely he had a means to do that without leaving anything behind, but Owen said none of this aloud.

Brandon looked at the orbs on the production line and shook his head. “That’s the legacy of humans. Their ambition to be the strongest species in the world, by doing nothing more than manipulating your kind. By capturing, controlling, and indoctrinating Pokémon to do their bidding. Their battles. Their wars…. All of it in the name of human ego.” Brandon snorted. “I’ve been there. I’ve been a human. I know exactly what it’s like to be on top, how it feels to be in control—but I’ve also seen what it means to be on the bottom. And I’m not about to put this world through that.”

Owen stared. “How can… what’s made in this factory be able to do something like that? How can _any_ single species be that powerful? Everything has a counter, doesn’t it? Like, if there was ever, uh, maybe a Rock Type uprising, I’d be in pretty big trouble….”

Brandon looked at Rhys, recalling his reaction before. “Should I show him?” the Steel Guardian said. “Seems like you know.”

“Ngh… I suppose Owen’s curiosity won’t let me say no,” Rhys said. “Amia, Gahi, Owen, I need one of you to go forward as a volunteer.”

“A—A volunteer?” Owen said.

“I’ll do it,” Gahi said. He wobbled forward and looked up. “Okay, what’s this gonna be fer?”

Brandon looked up and waved his hand gently in the air; something fell down. It was another one of those orbs, though this one shined brighter, and looked a lot newer. “I kept these ones safe, but I guess it’d be good to get rid of one for this,” he said.

“That one’s a different color,” Amia said. Instead of being red and white, this one was white on the bottom and black on the top, with yellow lines.

“Yeah, this one’s stronger. Just in case this guy puts up a fight. Trapinch…” Brandon hummed. “I’d say since he’s at full health, catching him would be a fifty-fifty shot with this. Maybe a little better. It’s been a while. You ready?”

“Sure. Go fer it. What’re yeh gonna do wi—”

Brandon tossed the ball; it hit Gahi on the head.

“Oy, what was tha--!?” The ball opened, and a light enveloped Gahi. In less than a second, the Trapinch was gone, and the ball fell to the ground, wiggling.

“G-Gahi?!” Owen and Amia said. Rhys lowered his head.

It shook a few times, almost violently, like someone was struggling inside. And then, the wiggling stopped, and there was a quiet _click_ noise. Owen felt his heart sink. “Wh-what… what happened?” he said, taking an uneasy step forward. “Gahi? A-are… are you in there?”

“He is,” Brandon said, approaching the sphere. “He’s probably disoriented right now. But he’s in there. It’s not easy to get out once it seals them. That’s what the click was.” He leaned down and picked the ball up. “Humans would capture Pokémon in these capsules. We called them Pokéballs for that reason. This one is an Ultra Ball—about twice as strong as the average Pokéball, those red ones.” Brandon looked down at the little button, but didn’t press it. “Hey, Gahi? You hear me? Why don’t you try escaping, huh?” He held the ball flat on his palm. “I’d send you out the traditional way, but I want to show how hard it is for a new ‘Wild Pokémon’ to escape these things.”

“Wild? But Gahi isn’t a Wild!” Owen said. “He’s a little weird, but that’s because he’s a Modified Pokémon, not Wild!”

“Same difference. Any Pokémon not under the control of a human is considered Wild,” Brandon said. The ball wiggled weakly. “That’s how the culture of humanity went. Sure, there were exceptions among them, but for the most part, you had to be under the dominion of a Trainer to be considered not Wild.” The ball wiggled helplessly again. “Guess Gahi can’t figure it out. Alright, Trapinch. Come on out!” Brandon tossed the ball; at the apex of its throw, it opened, and a white light emerged, poured onto the ground, and solidified into Gahi.

Gahi wobbled a few steps and turned around. “Wh-what was that?” he mumbled. “Was… was weird. Felt real weird.”

“Weird, huh?” Brandon said. “To be honest, I dunno what it’s like.”

“It was kinda like I was jus’… floatin’ in there,” Gahi said. “Didn’ have a body. Felt real… I dunno, weird. But I guess it was okay… felt kinda relaxed, eh…” He looked off. “I guess it was fine.”

“Yeah, it’s not _bad_ , in itself,” Brandon said, but then looked at Gahi. “D’you wanna go back in?”

Gahi looked tempted.

“W-wait! Gahi, maybe don’t?” Owen said. “We don’t know why that happened, but you shouldn’t just jump back into that thing! You _disappeared_! That’s—that’s crazy!”

Brandon nodded. “This is how Wild Pokémon are tamed. They’re put in a stress-free, cozy environment. It’s not like we mistreat them. I’ll give humans credit for that much; the vast majority of Trainers, we call ‘em, treat their Pokémon with respect and kindness, one way or another. And living in those Pokéballs, it’s like a little bliss to them, compared to having to tough it out in the wild. When they’re captured, they realize this. They’re pretty smart, even if they’re Wild. They put it together that humans can take care of them; in return, they serve the human. In itself, it’s not a bad system.”

Brandon looked down. “I was a trainer. I had lots of Pokémon, all loyal to me, and I took care of them. They were my partners. …No. They _are_ my Partners.” He gently tapped his metallic hand on his chest, making a loud _clang_. “My Pokémon are still with me, as my Steel spirits. So, I’m not going to deny that this technology made our lives better. But you know what? It can make lives a whole lot worse, too.”

Brandon crushed the Ultra Ball in his hands; it shattered and fell to the floor. Gahi flinched, as if his home had been destroyed right in front of him—but the feeling was fleeting. The Trapinch sank to the back of the group, wordless.

“Are you okay?” Owen asked quietly.

“Y-yeh, I’m fine,” Gahi said. “Jus’… weird, is all. That whole thing. But I dunno. I guess I prefer walkin’ aroun’ normally.”

Brandon continued. “I don’t want someone taking advantage of this technology here, either.”

“Then… why not destroy the factory _carefully_?” Amia said. “If you don’t like this technology, why don’t you just…?”

“To be honest, I’m not totally sure,” Brandon said. “Arceus said to guard it, not destroy it, so that’s what I’m doing. I’ll trust him on that one.”

Owen frowned. “But… our missions is to bring you with us,” he said. “If—if we can beat you, would you come with us?”

“No,” Brandon said.

Owen’s shoulders fell.

“But that being said, I’ll fight you anyway. It’s in your blood, and you’ll feel like trash if you didn’t get some fighting in, right?”

Owen winced.

“Yeah!” Gahi said. His spirits were already back to normal. “That’s right, yeh got it! So, at leas’ fight us, eh?!” He looked up at Owen, bumping his massive head against the back of his thigh. “Oy, you gonna fight?”

“H-huh?” Owen asked. “Y-yeah! Of—of course!” he said. Even if they weren’t going to bring him back, a fight sounded like fun regardless. “Fighting… battling… it’s the best!” he said. “Even if it’s in my instincts… it’s not like I’m hurting anyone!”

“Well, you kinda are,” Brandon shrugged. “But I know what you mean. But if I fought you, this wouldn’t be fair. And my Pokémon… they feel the same way you do, in a way. Even if they know, now, that they were raised to like battling… it doesn’t really leave you. And I guess if it’s okay, it doesn’t hurt to have a proper fight now and then. Heheh…” Brandon created an orb of aural energy from his palm. “I’ll teach you a tradition of the human world. It’s about our Pokémon Battles when we aren’t fighting in wars or other pointless things like that. Okay?”

“A traditional human-world Pokémon battle?” Owen said. “Sure! Okay!”

“Heh… alright,” Brandon said. He then tossed the aural energy; it formed into four steely Pokémon that mirrored their appearances. “My Pokémon used to have forms of their own, but they’ve gotten used to other bodies. So, I think it’d be appropriate if they mimicked you guys, huh?”

“Oh, okay!” Amia said. “I think that’s fair, but… you know, I think I’ll sit out, if you don’t plan to come with us. Why don’t we just have a battle between Gahi and Owen and their mirrors?”

The two Pokémon mimicking Rhys and Amia seemed disappointed at this, slumping their shoulders. “No fair!” one of them said.

“Hey, hey, y’know what, if that’s how you’re gonna be, why don’t you guys just fuse three-three on them, huh?” Brandon tossed two more spirits out; rather than form into steely bodies, they went into the backs of Owen and Gahi’s metallic doubles.

Owen blinked. “Fuse?” he said. “That’s… that’s possible?”

Brandon stared at Owen, but then glanced at Rhys and Amia. They both looked away. “Uh, yeah,” Brandon said. “I mean—yeah, it’s uncommon, but it’s definitely possible for Mystics, spirits, and—Just hold on.” Brandon gave a nod to the metal Lucario and Gardevoir, and the ones impersonating Rhys and Amia melted into a puddle of metal. Then, the Owen and Gahi doppelgangers stepped onto one of the puddles each; the metal wrapped around them and clung tight, sinking into their bodies. Owen felt a wave of power radiate from the two remaining bodies; he took a reflexive step back. “W-wow…” he said. “That… that feels so… strong.”

“Fusion of this kind amplifies the aura, and therefore the power that is output by the Pokémon battling. So, to keep it fair,” Brandon held his hand parallel to the ground and lowered it; a strange field enveloped the metallic fighters, “I’m gonna suppress their power as if they’re just a single Pokémon each.”

Owen looked at Gahi, and then at his opponents. “Okay. So, we’ll fight on even terms. That’s fine. Gahi, you think you can take them on?”

“Heh, nobody’s better at bein’ me than me. I’ll beat ‘em.”

“Hmph, we’ll see,” said Brandon. “You’ll see the true strength behind Pokémon and their Trainers.” The Machoke swung his arm forward, “Alright, guys! I’m gonna call you guys by what species you are, so don’t get confused!”

“Right!” the two—six, technically—of them said. They both entered a battle stance.

“G-good luck, dear,” Amia said, stepping away with Rhys. She said quietly to him, “What does he mean by the true strength?” she said.

“Hm… I believe I know what he is referring to,” Rhys said. “But we will have to see.”

Owen and Gahi both opened with their usual moves—Owen with a Flamethrower, and Gahi with a Feint Attack.

“Trapinch, counter with Feint Attack! Charmeleon, Dragon Claw!”

The Steely Pokémon obeyed, rushing right for their respective opponents. Gahi landed his Feint Attack with a powerful tackle, but his mirror did the exact same thing, knocking them both away from each other. Despite being made of metal, he seemed just as durable as Gahi; Brandon must have adjusted them to mimic their exact battle capabilities. Owen’s Flamethrower hit its mark, but it didn’t leave a burn as Owen would have hoped; the Dragon Claw hit with full force, leaving a gash along his chest. “Ngh--!” Owen tried to rush back, thinking about his next move. He didn’t hear Brandon’s next order in the rush of battle, but he had said something. But what?

“W-wait! Hello?” Owen saw his opponent running to the side, away from him. He fired a Flamethrower to get his attention, but he missed; instead, they both went after Gahi, striking him from both sides.

“Ngah--!” Gahi rolled on the hard concrete and struggled to stand up; Owen fired another Flamethrower. Charmeleon countered with Flash Cannon, softening the blow; Trapinch, meanwhile, formed a wad of mud in his mouth and fired at Owen, partially obscuring his vision. “W-wait! That’s not—”

Coordinated, Charmeleon landed another Dragon Claw and pushed Owen back; Trapinch followed up with another Mud Slap, almost completely blocking Owen’s vision, now.

“Alright, he’s weak enough. Watch out for Gahi!” Brandon yelled. “Charmeleon, use Flash cannon! Trapinch, use Iron Head!”

“Of course, they’d know those,” Amia sighed. “Ohh, why is he losing?! Is Brandon cheating? They should be at a disadvantage by Type, shouldn’t they?”

“No,” Rhys said. “They are at a disadvantage… but Brandon isn’t cheating. Their powers are equal.”

Gahi groaned, rolling across the ground. He was done—he could barely get off from his back. Owen was trying to get the mud off of his face.

“No matter how good you are at having a strategy,” Rhys said, “when you are in the heat of battle, it can be difficult to make the right decision. Owen, in his current state, isn’t able to strategize and battle at the same time without distance; he can buy time to do so… but Brandon needs no time. As an observer—as a Trainer—he is able to guide his weapons, his partners, with a much clearer head. Fewer mistakes, and more knowledge of the field, augments his Pokémon’s power in immeasurable.”

“Just being commanded makes them stronger?” Amia said.

“Not in and of itself,” Rhys said. “But it allows them to focus entirely on the battle itself. There is no need to _think_ about what to do next—if the bond with your Trainer is at its best… you can put all of your trust into his commands and focus entirely on execution. You stop thinking about what to do, and you start thinking about execution. The focus it provides is, well… You see the results.”

Owen knelt to one knee after the third Dragon Claw, clutching at his chest. “Th-that’s not fair,” he said, hearing the explanation. “That’s three on two!” Owen shouted.

“Hey, nothing’s stopping them from giving you commands,” Brandon shrugged. “Alright, guys! Finish ‘em off!”

A white light enveloped Gahi. Both of Brandon’s Pokémon flinched in surprise.

“Oh…?” said Brandon. “Well, would you look at that…. Hey, Trapinch. Mirror Gahi’s new bod’.”

The light faded just in time for Gahi to see his new, mirrored Vibrava opponent. His antennae twitched a few times, and he beat his wings tentatively. “Heh… finally,” he said, but it was less celebratory than Owen remembered. He knew why. Gahi probably figured he’d gone through this scene countless times before. Perhaps he was even remembering those moments. But that wasn’t important now—it looked like Gahi still had some fight left in him.

“Hah!” Gahi said. “C’mon, round two, let’s go!”

Brandon couldn’t help but laugh at Gahi’s enthusiasm. He then eyed Owen carefully. “…You know what,” Brandon said. “You’ve got even more power flowing through you, yet you aren’t evolving. What’s up with that?”

“I, uh, that, uh,” Owen clutched at the bag strapped to the side of his body. “That’s because of that stone I have. The Everstone? Oh, and it’s kinda an Eviolite amalgam, too, so I’m not too disadvantaged while I’m not evolved. That’s what Nevren said.”

“Oh, so that’s what’s keeping it down?” Brandon said. “Everstone… huh. Nevren…. Guess that thing is pretty good. I take it if that ever parts with you, you’ll evolve right away?”

“Yeah. So, I’d appreciate it if—”

“Charmeleon, Vibrava. Steal the bag.”


	35. Owen as Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brandon attempts to steal Owen's evolution-suppressing item, but things don't quite go as expected. Later, Owen encounters a Hunter in an area with nothing but painful memories.

“That’s _off limits_!” Amia cried.

“Whaaat, scared he’ll go crazy?” Brandon teased. “C’mon, it’s time we put it to the test. What do you think, Hecto?”

“I have little information on Owen’s sanity if he evolves, one way or the other,” the canid Zygarde said. “He demonstrated restraint the last time he evolved against Azu, but he was still unstable.”

Gahi buzzed his wings angrily. “Well I’m not gonna let ya!” he said. “Owen’s gonna evolve on his own terms!”

“I’d _love_ to see you try to stop that,” Brandon said, flicking his hand forward. “Charmeleon, Vibrava, take that bag at all costs!”

“Right!” They rushed toward Owen, completely ignoring Gahi. The metal Charmeleon went for the bag, while the Vibrava generated and hurled another volley of mud and sand toward his opponent. The Mud Slap missed, but the Charmeleon had already rushed for the bag. A burst of fire exploded below—Owen had planted a Fire Trap in case they tried to get close, and he took advantage of the explosion to get some distance. If they were going to try to steal from him, then he just had to escape. “Mom! Rhys—Gahi! We’re leaving!” he shouted.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Brandon said. “Guys! Quick!”

Charmeleon was suffering from a burn from the Fire Trap, but he advanced. He didn’t have to attack, after all; his mission was now to steal the bag. Vibrava launched another wad of mud just in time; Owen had grabbed his Badge, but the Mud Slap blinded him, and he reflexively rubbed at his eyes. He heard another fiery explosion to his right; the metal Charmeleon shrieked but toughed it out. He lurched forward and grabbed the bag.

“L-let go!” Owen said, and the two reptiles—one metallic, one fiery—held fast on the fabric. Owen was trying to be careful and not tear it apart, but his metal counterpart was significantly rougher. “C-c’mon, this is expensive!” Owen begged, looking at the metallic claws tearing into the lip of the bag. “Nngh, that’s not—can you just stop?!” But he saw the bag leave a little tear at the fabric, and as a reflex, he let go.

The metallic Charmeleon fell back with a loud _clang_ , but the bag was in his arms. “Got it!”

“Finally,” Brandon said. The Charmeleon stood up. They watched Owen for the evolution to take place. Hecto, off to the side, stood expressionlessly, staring.

_“No!_ ” Amia cried.

Rhys cursed and slowly built up his suppressing aura, ready for the worst.

Owen held his breath, looking at his hands. He looked back at Amia and Rhys. So that’s how it was. Already prepared to take him down…. So much for building him up. No—that wasn’t fair. They were just being careful. He told them to be careful. He shouldn’t be mad at that.

He looked at Brandon.  “…You really wanted me to evolve,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“What—of course I did!” Brandon said. He waited a few more seconds. Exasperated, the Machoke raised his arms. “And why _aren’t_ you!?”

“Because I knew something like this was gonna happen.” Owen growled, pacing in a small circle. “Enet might’ve tried to steal it as a prank, or maybe Willow, y’know, something like that. Or Mom would get impatient and take the bag away while I was asleep, see if I was calm when that happened? I don’t know! People get moody! What if one day I just _happen_ to lose my stone, misplace it?” He glanced back at Amia, who flinched and stared at the production line to her right. “So that stone isn’t in the bag anymore. It hasn’t been since this morning.”

“Th—where is it, then? Or are you in total control of evolving, now?”

“Owen…?” Amia said. “Did… are you stable?! In control?!”

Owen smiled sadly at his mother, shaking his head. But then, he smirked at Brandon, holding his hands to his hips proudly. “I ate it.”

A full three seconds of silence filled the echoing factory.

“…WHAT?!” Brandon said.

“You _ate_ it?! Owen! That’s dangerous!” Amia said. “You can’t pass something that large! How did you--?”

“I just grew in size a little, ate it, and shrank back down,” Owen said. “I did it while I was on my morning stroll, thinking about ways to keep _you guys_ from stealing my Everstone.”

“Okay, but, Owen,” Brandon said, “lemme… just… What exactly is the _exit strategy_ for that? It’s probably stuck in your stomach. It’s way too big to go through the rest of your guts.”

“I ate it with a vine whip,” Owen said. “I dunno where it is, but it’s stored somewhere when I became a Grass Type. I feel fine. If I ever want it out again, I’ll just spit it back out.”

Gahi buzzed over to Owen and started poking at his stomach.

“Uh—Gahi,” Owen said quietly.

“’Ang on, I’m trin’ ter find it,” Gahi said, prodding at different parts of his belly and lower chest. “Oy! There it is,” he said, prodding at just below his chest with one of his legs.

“Yep, that’s pretty stomach-regiony.” Brandon put a hand to his forehead, making another loud ringing noise when the metals collided. “Unbelievable. So much for testing your full form.”

“And I’d like it if you _asked_ first!” Owen said, pointing at Brandon. “What if I went crazy and you couldn’t stop me?! I’d destroy this factory!”

“Aah, it’s not that easy to do,” he said. “I’m a lot stronger than you think, y’know.”

“Okay, sure, if you’re strong, maybe I can’t beat you, but what if I used these Pokéballs that were lying around, found a working one, and captured you? Then once you escape from it, I’d just attack you and throw another one at the same time. I’d just chip away until you got too tired to fight back!”

“O-Owen, that’s… a little elaborate. How long were you thinking about that?” Amia said worriedly. “A little, um…”

“…Huh,” Brandon said. “Didn’t actually think of that.” He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Man, I forgot that’s your specialty, Owen.”

“What?” Owen said. “Specialty?”

“Yeah. I heard from Arceus all about you four—the ultimate Synthetics that Nevren and Rhys designed. The perfect team. Mispy, who was able to heal and sense those who were injured by aura—Gahi, whose speed could dodge attacks and deal ones that couldn’t be dodged—Demitri, whose attacks were so potent that not even Protect could block them—and then you, Owen, who knew how to come up with the best strategies on the fly, and who was aware of the whole battlefield at once.” The Machoke nodded. “Hyper defense, hyper agility, hyper offense, and hyper awareness.” Brandon said. “…Isn’t that right, Rhys?”

Owen’s heart was racing with some strange mixture of anxiety and anger. Even his _abilities_ weren’t something he controlled? That Fire Trap that he spent so much time developing and planning—was that just what he _always_ had? It was all planned? His awareness of everyone’s body language, reading if they’d attack or not, where things were. Was it all…?

“Ngh… yes,” Rhys admitted. “Those are their abilities.”

“That’s… my ability?” Owen said. “So—my whole thing about… just knowing exactly what to do, and all that. How it’s so easy for me, but harder for everyone else to do in the middle of battle, that’s—my instinct? Being resourceful and… just _knowing_ where things are and how to achieve some goal? I… that’s…?”

“Instinct… I wouldn’t call it that. Maybe your _talent_.” Brandon said.

“But it’s still something that I was _born_ with.” Owen said lowly. “Or… no. Not born. _Designed_ with. Is that it?” His voice broke. His claws dug into his palms.

“Owen…” Amia said softly. “It’s not like that. It’s okay. I mean, you still had to refine it! Right? Rhys?”

Rhys nodded. “Y-yes, it isn’t as if you can be born with total knowledge of, say… what Dungeon Orbs are, or Seeds, or Berries. You had to learn those. You just had… a specialized mind for putting those pieces together, Owen. More than usual.”

This still didn’t sit right with Owen. The fiery Charmeleon went back to looking at his claws, but then at Brandon. “…And you’re not coming with us?” he asked.

“Nope,” Brandon said. “Sitting right here. I’ve got a factory to guard.”

“Right,” Owen said. “…Then I guess we’re just gonna go.”

“O-Owen? You aren’t going to… finish the fight?” Amia asked.

Owen felt that heat in his heart—the temptation to fight. He gritted his teeth. That was part of his design, too. “No,” he said. “I’m not in the mood.”

Hecto turned his head at Owen. He said and did nothing else.

“I won’t stop you,” Brandon said. “Just don’t touch anything on your way out.”

“Thanks,” Owen said curtly. He headed for the exit, not even looking at Amia or Rhys. Instead, he glanced at Gahi. His tone softened. “Do you want to ride on my back again?”

“Eh—nah, I’ll jus’ fly next to yeh. If I get tired, I’ll… go on.”

Owen nodded. The Charmeleon then left. Amia tried talking to Owen, but the most response she got out of him was curt hums and silent nods. Rhys knew not to interact.

 

Owen stood at the edge of the shoreline, looking at the blackened sand and the dark water. He looked at his bag, irritated at the little rips on it from his metallic counterpart trying to pull it away. He snorted. “I can’t believe I let them do that,” he said. “Should’ve just told them from the start that I wasn’t able to evolve…. Now look, I probably have to get this thing sewed up, repaired, all that… Ugh!” Owen stomped his foot on the ground, splashing a bit of the dark water and sand in the air. He protectively lifted the bag, narrowly avoiding getting it dirty again.

“Hey,” Gahi said.

Owen looked back. “It’s alright,” he said. “I just need to cool off, that’s all….”

“How come yer all mad?” Gahi asked. Owen took off, so Gahi flew after him. As it turned out, Owen was too fast—Amia and Rhys trailed behind but knew to keep away. Gahi only kept up because of his natural speed.

“I guess I just got a reminder,” Owen said. “Just—a reminder of what I am, is a way to put it.”

“Yer instincts, y’mean? Bein’ good at solvin’ problems? I mean, hey, rumor has it that humans were th’ same way.” Gahi buzzed a bit further ahead so he could get a better look at Owen. “We all have instincts. I wouldn’ know how ter fly without’m.”

“I guess so…” Owen said. “But… but it feels different that I was _designed_ instead of just… born like everyone else. I know Star may’ve started it all, but I bet they changed a whole lot, generation to generation, from what she first made, right? But me, I’m… I feel… predicted.”

Gahi stared dumbly at Owen. The Charmeleon understood that this may have been too much for the Vibrava. “I feel like I’m not _me_ , I’m just… what someone wants me to be. And I’m just… being that, like I was supposed to. I feel like I didn’t… make any choices. No real ones. It was all predetermined, and I never really had a fork in the road, ever. I just… did what everyone wanted me to do.”

“Eh…” Gahi said. “I guess I c’n see that. Either way, sorta annoyin’ that we’ve got these instincts that people don’ understand.”

“I don’t even _want_ them,” Owen said. “Why couldn’t I just be a normal Charmander, or a Charizard, or whatever? Then I’d just… I dunno.” He said.

“…What _would_ you do?” Gahi said.

Owen hesitated. He didn’t think that far ahead. Sure, it was a little nice to think about living a normal life, but how would that go? Would he even be strong enough to become a Heart if he wasn’t… who he was? After all, only the most talented fighters would become one. Everyone else had to take on normal jobs to get by. That wasn’t so bad, but….

“I think bein’ like this is kinda cool,” Gahi went on.

“Cool…? You think it’s cool?” Owen repeated, glancing incredulously. “You think it’s cool that your whole destiny was predetermined by—by killers, and you were supposed to be their weapon? You _like_ being nothing but a—but some sort of… muscle head?”

“I mean, kinda,” Gahi said. “I’d say I’m happy.”

Owen squinted at Gahi, but then looked forward. He didn’t respond.

 

The rest of the flight home was silent. They flew over Kilo Village. The Charmeleon sank a bit lower in altitude, if only to get a change in scenery.

“Not too close, Owen!” Amia called. “You’re a flying Charmeleon!”

“Ngh.” Owen lifted up a bit more. They were like specks to him from this height, but he could still see the vague features of the Pokémon below, the sections for training, for food, for entertainment—and Anam’s Thousand Heart Association.

Owen wondered where he got the name from. Why a thousand, so specifically? It was a hefty number, after all. But then again, it was a good number for the size of the world.

“Owen, don’t you think we should just warp back home, dear?” Amia asked.

“You can,” Owen said. “I just want to fly.”

Amia sighed, looking at Rhys. Really, they could have been home by now, before they even took off. But Owen had flown away with their Badge. Eventually, the Charmeleon fall back and hand his bag over.

“Do you know how to repair this?” Owen asked her.

“Oh, um… I’m not very good with… fabrics,” Amia said.

“I can assist,” Rhys said. “Owen, will… you be okay on your own?”

“I should be,” Owen said. “I’ll just fend for myself. Gahi, how about you go with them?”

“Eh, I dunno if it’s a good idea ter send yeh on yer own,” Gahi said. “What if Rim shows up, or something?”

“I’ll fight her.”

“Yeah, uh, maybe not,” Gahi said.

“She doesn’t want me to evolve,” Owen said. “She won’t provoke me.”

“But what if she jus’ kills you?” Gahi said. “Yer a threat now.”

“I don’t think she will,” Owen said. “I saw it in her. She doesn’t want to hurt me. Don’t you think so, Rhys?” Owen nodded. “Even back then, she was just trying to scare me off. She doesn’t want to hurt… _me_. I don’t really know why yet, but… I think it’s because I used to be with them. Maybe she’d feel bad.”

“Hm… nn… I suppose not,” Rhys said. “She wouldn’t want to harm Gahi, either. But I want you home by sunset, understood?”

“Yer gonna be okay?” Gahi asked, slowing until he was near Rhys and Amia.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “Besides, if Rim does show up…” he trailed off. “I want to talk to her. Just… I just want some questions answered about… me.”

“Sunset, Owen,” Rhys said firmly.

“Please, dear…” Amia added.

Owen just huffed, but he gave a minute nod in reply. Amia reluctantly flashed the Badge in the air, and she and Rhys vanished with Gahi.

Owen sighed and drifted away from Kilo Village. He scanned the landscape and found a small clearing. Something about that location drew him toward it—he remembered this sight, from the skies. But the memory was too blurry to make out the details. But if it was familiar, then it was when he was a Charizard. He followed his vague memories to the ground.

The memories hit him like a Rock Wrecker. The trees stood tall on all sides, and the ground had shin-high grass all over. Some parts of the grass seemed shorter than the rest, but for the most part, it was as if nothing had ever happened here. But it did.

Owen felt someone within him knock on his chest. He closed his eyes and released him. “Klent…” he said.

The Jumpluff floated gracefully down—he looked completely solid, like he was alive again. He was so light that he floated in the wind; his pom-poms behaved like flotation devices on the grass. “It’s been… quite a while,” Klent said.

“Yeah…”

Owen looked at his claws, then at his tail. Some of the grass was singed from his tail drooping too low; he quickly lifted it, and then focused. He transformed into his Grassy form, the flower at the tip of his tail blooming into a brilliant crimson this time, contrasting against his green, leafy scales.

“…I’m sorry for…” Owen said.

“It’s okay, Owen,” Klent said. “It… it wasn’t _you_.”

“But—but wasn’t it _exactly_ me?” Owen said.

“Not the Owen I know,” Klent said.

“Klent…”

A consistent, easy breeze blew past them; Owen felt the petals of his tail shiver in the gust. The tall grass blew all in one direction, making a watery, whishing noise throughout the thin forest.

But it _was_ him, wasn’t it? It was part of him. That horrible monster that was sealed away in his mind was as much Owen as the suppressed version talking now.

The Jumpluff turned away. “…As much as I say that I know you as someone else now, Owen… I don’t like being around here very much. There aren’t many good memories here. Very few…” He sighed. “I’ll be returning, now. Owen, will you be fine on your own?”

“Y-yeah. I just want to… take a walk.”

Klent nodded and evaporated into an aural ember, returning to Owen. He walked down the path until the grass got shorter, away from the residual influence of the previous Grass Guardian. The Mystic side of him appreciated the scenery; the natural side of him preferred a hotter climate. He didn’t know what his ‘true’ side felt about this place. Perhaps it didn’t feel anything at all.

Once he was on a landscape with shorter grass that only went up to the top of his claws, Owen felt the presence of someone powerful. The leaves on his body stiffened like fur, and he slowed his pace. He could feel the anxieties of the spirits within him. _Calm down, it’s alright,_ Owen thought to them.

He knew who it was. So, he wasn’t surprised when he saw an Espurr appear in front of him, just as he had anticipated. He snorted and continued walking. He sensed no malice, but he also realized that it was going to be impossible to get anything out of her. There was no point in talking.

Rim had her eyes on the ground. Owen walked right past her. And then she turned around. Owen knew this—he sensed that, too. He walked for a few minutes; the Espurr never made a move. Instead, she vanished and reappeared behind him when he got too far away. Realizing she wouldn’t stop this, he finally turned around. The Espurr still had her eyes on the ground. After a moment of quiet that was cut only by the wind, she took slow, hesitant steps toward him. Owen could tell that she was too nervous to speak—and his vague memories suggested that she wasn’t much to talk in general.

Rim sat down. Owen watched her. The grass caressed her tiny legs and intertwined with her gray fur. The way she moved was delicate and deliberate. Her ears twitched when a breeze rustled the fur the wrong way.

Rim… Owen knew her, too. The memories were locked away, but they were definitely there. He wondered if Rim missed him, or if he was just an asset to her that she was trying to get back. He really didn’t know. But her heart beat in an odd way. Her breathing was slow and sad. Rim wouldn’t be able to fight even if she tried; like Owen, she just wasn’t in the mood.

She focused on the ground; it rippled, and then swirled into a flat, brown plane. Then, little figures rose up on the ground, and a grid formed a square in the middle, with a figure taking up each square on the two bottom and top edges of the grid. Half of them on Owen’s side, the other half on Rim’s.

Owen blinked. Recognition washed over his eyes. Chess. He played it all the time—it was a game that Nevren knew, though where he learned it, he had no idea. He didn’t know what half of the pieces were called anymore; he just knew what they could do by their shape. One of the pieces on Rim’s side jiggled and floated up, moving two spaces toward Owen.

He stared. Was this what she wanted to do? A game? The petals on his tail swayed rhythmically, and he sat down in front of her. The grass felt nice against his leafy scales. Perhaps the fields weren’t so bad after all.

Owen intended to counter with the same move. He reached forward, but a barrier blocked his way. He blinked, looking at Rim. She stared back at him. Those giant eyes stared wordlessly into his, and he understood.

Owen retracted his hand and closed his eyes. He used his Mystic powers and slowly slid the pawn forward to mirror her move.

Rim smiled and made her next move.

It only took a few minutes for Owen to easily defeat Rim. Fifteen moves and Rim’s King was cornered. Owen looked down at Rim with a little smirk, but Rim beamed with her big eyes. It unnerved him. He could read intentions, but he couldn’t read minds. All he could feel from Rim was a radiating, happy heartbeat, a happy puff of air from her tiny nose, the muscles of her face contorting into a rare, genuine smile.

For a moment, Owen stopped caring. And in that moment, his heart felt lighter, too.

Rim stood up; she walked around the board, toward Owen, and pushed at his side. Owen tilted his head; he scooted to the side, but then Rim made a slightly more twisting motion, and Owen understood. He turned around.

The Charmeleon spun until his back was facing the board. Rim sat back on the other side of the other side of the board. Owen felt it again—that _feeling_ of something moving. Rim made the same move as before. But he wasn’t sure about any of the other pieces. He knew that they would be in their original positions, but he couldn’t feel them yet. He had to focus…. And then, he felt them. Saw them. The pieces were all there, as were his. So, he focused on that one piece again, and mirrored her move.

The game was slower, but it allowed Rim more time to think. She was harder to beat this time, but Owen soon knew the entire landscape of the board, and even the Wild Pokémon in the trees that were watching them, and the plants that swayed with the wind. He had no idea he could expand himself like this, to _feel_ the land as if it was his own body. Hyper awareness…. Was this it? Was this what it felt like?

The game was over before he knew it, and with a final, decisive _thump_ of the piece, Rim’s King was trapped in checkmate. Owen felt Rim’s smile, and she stood up. Owen turned around, but by the time he was facing forward again, she was gone.


	36. Wings of Scales and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's ready.

Hot Spot Cave’s training area—deeper inside, beyond the residential buildings, but not near the lava—was awash with water, warming in the natural heat. Four Pokémon fought in the middle; two were exhausted, collapsed on the ground. The other two waited patiently for their opponents to rise.

“I thought this would be harder,” Willow pouted.

“You have to remember,” Zena said, “they’re not Mystic. They may be Modded, but that’s sealed away, still.”

Demitri gurgled in his puddle of Zena’s Hydro Pump. Mispy staggered to her feet.

“Well, at least we got them to evolve,” Willow said, eying the Fraxure and Bayleef.

Demitri finally stood up, panting. “That’s… that’s right! So we’re… totally making progress,” he said. “Right, Mispy?”

“I might faint…” Mispy wheezed.

“If that’s the case, we should just take a break,” Zena said. “We don’t want to push you too hard anyway—not when it won’t be easy to subdue you in case… well…”

“In case we evolve?” Demitri said.

Mispy nodded. “But… it doesn’t feel like we’ll evolve yet.”

“Yeah, the other times we evolved, it always sorta felt like there was this… pressure, or this heat, in our chest, you know? A power that wanted to get out—and I don’t feel that yet. So, we can probably go for a little while longer and be fine!”

“Demitri,” Zena said, “you can barely stand.”

“I—I’ll figure it out!”

“Maybe let your head do some thinking instead of your muscles,” Willow said. “Turn off that battle-mode instinct!”

“I—I don’t think we can!” Demitri said. “But… but I guess we fought enough…”

“We didn’t,” Mispy sighed.

“Well, when will it be enough?” Zena asked.

Mispy wasn’t sure how to answer the question.

“…Let’s just rest,” the Milotic said. She turned and slithered back to the main square; Willow hopped onto her back and climbed to the top of her head. Demitri and Mispy reluctantly followed them home.

Rhys, Amia, and Gahi appeared in the middle of the square. At first they were relieved that they returned safely—but then panicked when they realized only three came back.

“W-where’s Owen?!” Willow said. “You lost Owen! You idiots! H-how could you--?”

“Owen’s okay—he’s okay!” Amia said. “He just… wanted to go for a walk! Take the… scenic way back! I’m sure he’s okay. It isn’t even dark out yet, okay? He should be back by lunch! Maybe late lunch…. I told him before sunset, but I don’t see him taking that long.”

Willow was sparkling with angry energy. “He could be hurt by the Hunters alone! What kind of a mother are you?!”

“Th-that’s not--! I didn’t mean to—he’s okay! H-he’s…!” Amia sniffed.

“Willow, there is no strategic advantage to the Hunters striking Owen. He’s unstable, and if he evolves, it could mean the end for them. Owen isn’t aligned with Star or Ba—Arceus, and I believe they want to take advantage of that.”

“What, and convince Owen to work for them? Hah!” Willow snorted. “…Why did Owen want to go on his own…?”

“Eh, got a li’l moody when someone told ’im he’s good at solvin’ puzzles because that’s in his nature, th’ way he was designed.”

“Oh,” Willow said. Her sparks simmered down, turning into a pink mist. “Well… I guess that’s okay to be mad about.”

Manny stepped closer, overhearing the discussion. “He’s still havin’ an identity crisis, eh?” he asked. “Bah, why can’t he be simple-minded like these three?”

“Simple-minded?” Mispy growled.

“E-ehh, maybe like, yeh don’t care as much?”

“That’s better,” Mispy said, shaking her leaf angrily. She eyed Demitri and softened her expression. “Think Owen will be… okay?”

“Well… I think he’ll be a little moody for a while. He always got wrapped up in his thoughts. I mean, maybe that’s part of how he was designed, but… that’s how we know him, right? So, it can’t be all bad. Besides, isn’t everyone born a little designed?”

“I dunno,” Gahi said. “Hey, so looks like yeh evolved! I bet I evolved firs’, though, heh.”

“We got to training pretty soon after you left,” Demitri said. “I think we evolved while you were still flying to the factory. Oh—and how’d that go?”

“Eh… I don’t wanna talk about it,” Gahi said. “Maybe later.”

“What, is everyone in a bad mood?” Willow said.

“It seems so,” Zena said slowly. She nodded solemnly. “Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner. Manny, you mentioned that you were preparing something for the Mods?”

“Eh, yeah! Great stuff fer a post-fight meal, y’know. Builds up muscle. Real great protein. I’m gonna go finish it up; I’ve got it on a low simmer righ’ now. Aura burns real steadily if yeh got good control.”

The Lucario left; Rhys seemed skeptical that Manny was capable of slow burns.

“Make a plate for Owen, too,” Zena said. “Surely he’ll return by lunchtime…”

“But he doesn’t eat anymore,” Gahi said.

“I think he’ll appreciate it,” Zena countered. “Okay?”

“Ehh, alrigh’…” Gahi looked at Manny, who nodded while hauling out a pot of stew.

 

Thankfully, Owen returned during lunch, entering the cave the old fashioned way. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t have to do the Hot Spot dance to open the path, but despite this, the Charmeleon had the smallest spring in his step.

Amia, spotting this, was simultaneously perplexed and relieved. “Owen, you’re back,” she said.

“Hey, Mom,” Owen said. “Um—how’s everyone doing?”

“Oh, just fine, Owen,” she said. “Did you have a good flight home?”

“Yeah,” Owen said.

“I didn’t have time to repair your bag just yet, but I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Oh, yeah, uh—that’s okay,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Oy, Owen! We made a plate yer ya!” Gahi called, waving one of his wings.

“F-for me?” Owen asked. “I don’t eat!”

“Yeah, but I bet food still tastes good, eh?” Gahi said. “C’mon!”

“W-well, if you went through the trouble…” He walked over to the little picnic-like seating arrangement, seeing the one plate without a ‘mon next to it. He sat down between Gahi and Demitri, taking his first heaping spoonful.

“So, how’d your trip go?” Gahi asked. “Anybody yeh see er anythin’? Y’ took a while, unless yeh jus’ wandered.”

“Oh, I ran into Rim,” Owen said. “She, um… she was nice. We didn’t talk much, but she barely talks, so that’s not really any different. She played a game with me—chess, y’know what that is?”

“Huh… That sounds kinda familiar,” Demitri said. “Gahi?”

“Yeah, I think you played that before, when we were still with the Hunters. So, Rim just taught you how that game worked again?”

“It kinda just came back to me,” Owen said, downing another spoonful. “But then she did something a little weird. She made me turn around and play it without looking. But I still beat her… I had to use my Mystic power to move the pieces, but… yeah. I still won.”

“Wow, you beat Rim without even looking?”

“At chess,” Owen said. “I just… felt where the pieces were, that’s all.

“Yeah, but that’s still pretty cool,” Demitri said. “Is that part of your Mystic power?”

“Maybe…? But… I feel like I had that sort of power before. It’s… familiar. So, I might’ve been able to do something like that before. Maybe without the telekinesis, though… I think she—” The memory hit him. “Th-that’s right! She’d tie a Pecha Scarf or something else lying around. She’s tie it over my eyes so I couldn’t see…! I remember that…” Owen touched his chest. “Wow… we used to play that all the time….”

Rhys eyed Owen nervously. “That was a long time ago, Owen. Don’t think too fondly of those memories for now.”

“Y-yeah,” Owen looked off. “I know. She… she’s still hunting us down, even if she wants to keep me around…. I won’t be going with her or anything. But,” he said. “To be honest, I…” he trailed off. “…I feel a little better about me.”

“About you?” Amia said. “Oh, you mean—”

Owen nodded. “Yeah. About… who I’m supposed to be, and how I… kinda just am what I’m supposed to be. It’s… okay. Because… I like it. It’s not bad. Like what Gahi said, y’know…? And I can still choose the little things…. Fighting who I am isn’t gonna help, if it’s just… ingrained. Like, you can’t stop yourself from feeling happy, or mad, right? It’s just… there.”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” Amia said. “But you don’t have to be defeated by that, either. After all, you’re still meditating to keep your… battle-heart in check, right?”

Owen nodded. “Yeah. So, I can control it. But my personality—being all… quick-thinking… I think I want to keep that. I’m _choosing_ to keep that part of my design.” The Charmeleon stood up and closed his eyes.

“Uh, Owen?” Demitri, still seated, craned his neck.

Owen gently pressed a hand to his chest. He felt that part of him lose its shape, like dipping his hand into a pool of water. It sank in, and then he pulled out the Everstone-Eviolite.

“Uhh—Owen,” Amia said, “didn’t you promise to wait until _tomorrow_ to do that?”

“It’s tomorrow somewhere,” Owen replied, and then tossed it over to Rhys.

Enet’s fur puffed up. “Owen?” she asked.

“It’s okay,” Owen said. “…I’m… I’m ready.”

He felt the heat swelling up rapidly. He wasn’t going to contain it much longer—there was no suppressing this evolution. He stepped away from the food to keep from toppling anyone over, and winced. “Th-that’s pretty strong…!” he said.

He scanned the room—everyone that he knew. He wouldn’t forget them, and he wouldn’t forget himself. He _couldn’t_ , not after all this. He trained for this. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath. He held it. “I’m okay,” he said again. “I’m gonna evolve, alright?”

“Take it slow, Owen,” Amia said; the whole room was silent. “If—if you can.”

Owen nodded. The light enveloped him, sparking.

 

Rim appeared behind Nevren in his office. “Disappear, please,” Nevren said.

Rim quickly vanished.

“A-Alakazam!” someone called.

“Hmm?” Nevren turned around. “Ah, yes. What’s wrong?”

“W-we spotted something in Arachna Forest, more of those—those strange Pokémon! But… they were behaving strangely. So—a third kind of strange compared to how those things usually are.”

“Strangely? In what way?” Nevren asked.

“They were… controlled. They were just patrolling—they didn’t look like they were going to fight at all. But—but they were definitely those strange Pokémon.”

“I see. Thank you for the report. I’ll be sure to send an Elite team there shortly. You are dismissed for the day.”

“Y-yes. Um… and, Alakazam…? Where’s Goodra Anam?”

“Ah, he’s fine and elsewhere on expeditions to gather the artifacts that those creatures may be after. Not to worry. Perhaps I can see if he can return tomorrow for morale, or an assembly.” Nevren nodded. “In any case, thank you. You may go.”

He left.

“…You may return, Rim.”

The Espurr appeared. Her eyes were a bit brighter than usual.

“How are things going, Rim? You have visited me again.”

Rim nodded. “Owen…” she said.

“Oh? I’ve been listening in on their little conversations. Owen is planning to evolve.”

Rim nodded again. “He’s… content.”

“That’s very good,” Nevren said. “He might be ready now. I didn’t quite expect that meeting with Brandon to go that way, but in the end, it still worked out, didn’t it? And they learned of Pokéballs, and that was the primary goal.” He nodded. “You didn’t have to see him, though, Rim. Why did you do so now? He still doesn’t trust you.”

“He… plays chess well,” Rim said.

Nevren returned to Rim a wry smile.

She giggled, but then disappeared.

“Ahh, Rim,” Nevren sighed. “Well, whatever makes her happy, I suppose.” He looked at the ceiling. “I suppose I can only hope that this makes things easier down the line.”

 

Black sparks flung off of Owen. Waves of power radiated from the center of the corrupted, evolutionary light. Amia and the ones closest to him had to step away. And then, finally, with a wave of heat, power, and sparkling pinpricks of black and white light, it was done. The new Pokémon beat his wings, and the lights flew across the entire town square, bumping into the walls, fading, dissipating.

He opened his eyes. Orange scales followed his back and shoulders, with beige scales on his front, going along his tail, but stopping below his neck. Much like a normal Charizard, he had a flame at the end of his tail, wings, a bipedal shape, and two horns on the back of his head, unlike the one horn he had as a Charmeleon. However, he was a bit slimmer, and his wings were larger. His horns were a bit sharper, and they were just barely hooked upward behind his head.

He blinked a few times. It felt like his vision was twice as powerful as it was before. It was like he could see every tiny detail ahead of him. And if he focused, it felt like he could sense everything beside him, and behind him, too. And above, and below. He felt like a Claydol. Eyes on all sides—though, not literally, he hoped. He breathed slowly; he felt that inner need to battle again. But he suppressed it, and he kept himself composed. “…Hey… guys,” he said. “W-wow…. Everyone looks a lot smaller now that I’ve evolved. H-heh…” he scratched the back of his head, taking a moment to feel the two horns behind him. So new, yet so familiar. “Wow…” Owen said again, looking at his claws, squeezing his hands.

“Are you… okay?” Amia asked.

“You’re… big!” Enet said, staring up. “Really big!”

“Y-yeah,” Owen said. “Thanks! I guess I’m not too small after all, huh?”

“Yeah!”

“So… so you aren’t gonna kill us?” Willow asked.

“W-was I really like that?” Owen said.

“Not really, but… you know…” Willow hesitated, glancing at Manny.

“Nah, yeh were jus’ scary good at fightin’,” Manny said. “Good job at all that! Hey, how ‘bout we break th’ new body in, eh? Let’s have a rematch!”

“Y-you? I—I don’t know if I should,” Owen said. “I could barely stand up against Azu, and isn’t he your weakest?”

“Only by a li’l bit,” Manny said. “I dwarf ‘em all anyway. So yeh wanna go? One on one?”

“W-well…!” Owen looked pleadingly at Amia and Rhys.

Rhys sighed. “Very well. But if you feel yourself slipping, request to stop. Manny, I expect you to respect that.”

“I will,” Manny said, knocking a claw against his chest-spike. “Lucario’s Honor, eh?”

“Hm.”

Owen grabbed his bowl of stew and dumped the rest of its contents down his throat.

Manny led the way to the training area; Owen marveled at how much smaller it seemed now that he was so much taller. “I’m still not used to it…” he said. “I don’t think I was ever this size before in these caves!”

“Are yer memories comin’ back yet?”

“A little,” Owen said. “But… I don’t want to think back to them yet. I just want to enjoy being like this for a while before I… reflect.”

“Sure,” Manny said. “Okay, y’ready?”

“I am,” Owen said.

Manny went into his usual battle stance; Owen did the same. If one thing came back to him, it was his memories of battle, and his capabilities. He closed his eyes and cleared his head of any interfering thoughts, and then stared Manny down.

Owen could sense Manny’s nervousness. The Lucario was giving a front of bravado, but Owen smelled that tinge of fear on him. Why would Manny volunteer to fight him, then? Perhaps he was trying to train him like he trained the other synthetic Pokémon within his Orb.

The Lucario shifted his feet and opened with an Extremespeed. The sudden, rapid movement wasn’t anything overwhelming anymore; instead, Owen made a minute, calculated jump back, and then a second one. Manny continued anyway, aiming to ram into Owen with his momentum. He was interrupted by a fiery explosion beneath him, interrupting the attack; the Fire Trap was planted without Owen even stomping his foot.

“Bah—wh-y’think that’s enough ter get m—”

Owen blasted Manny with a Flamethrower immediately after the first fire settled down. Manny roared and launched an all-out attack in close quarters, desperate to at least land some sort of blow to shake Owen’s composure, but all Owen had to do was close his wings and block the strike with a powerful, impenetrable, yet temporary barrier—Protect. Through a gap between his wings, Owen stared at Manny’s surprised expression. He wondered why. It was genuine—he sensed that much. Manny fought Mods like him before—but then again… this was the first time he fought one with this much latent experience.

The Lucario jumped away. “Heh… okay, okay…” Manny said. “So yeh got some skills af’er all… Well, lookit that. An’ if that’s jus’ you on yer own…”

“Are we done fighting?” Owen asked, going into a neutral stance.

Manny vanished from view for a split-second; Owen flinched and jumped forward, narrowly dodging an attack from the rear.

“Bah, yer too good fer a sneak attack,” Manny said, shrugging. “Guess I’ll jus’ have ter do somethin’ that won’t miss.” He aimed an Aura Sphere at Owen and fired. Owen cloaked himself in his wings for a second time, blocking it, but it didn’t work the second time. The next Aura Sphere hit him square in the chest; Owen grunted and stumbled back. Even if he was good at dodging like Gahi, he felt just as fragile—and Manny was no lightweight. He’d only be able to take a few more of those hits.

“If Fire Trap is yer signature, then I jus’ won’t move!” Manny announced, and then planted his feet down, moving only his paws to aim at Owen.

“Ngh--!” Owen knew that he was right. If Manny didn’t move, he wouldn’t be able to activate any of his traps. He’d have to _force_ a movement out of him. Owen knew just the way to do it. He still had his fourth move—and in hindsight, he knew exactly why he had it. Concentrated, white, whirling gusts of wind swirled around his claws; when Manny fired his first Aura Sphere, Owen countered with a slash to the wind—the resulting strike, an Air Slash, countered the Aura Sphere. The explosion obscured Manny’s view just long enough for Owen to get near Manny; all he had to do was get close. Then, he jumped around and away from Manny and launched a second Air Slash while he was confused.

“What—”

The Air Slash exploded prematurely, right in front of Manny. The concentrated wind made a shockwave of force that knocked the Lucario off his feet. He flew through the air and looked down. “Bah—ain’t gonna work!” he said. He fired an aura sphere at the ground; the Fire Trap triggered and erupted, sending rocks in all directions. Owen used Protect to block from the aftermath, but Manny landed right where the explosion happened. None of the other traps ignited.

Owen cursed. “Well if you’re gonna do that, then—” Owen fired another Air Slash, but Manny knew his game. He launched an Aura Sphere in return, and then hopped in the air; he stepped on the Fire Trap, but then used Extremespeed, outrunning the very ignition delay of the traps. Before Owen had time to react, Manny was in front of him; too fast for Owen to use Protect this time. The blow was powerful, but not decisive; the Charizard grunted and stumbled away, clutching his chest. Manny held his paw up, aiming an Aura Sphere directly at Owen’s head.

The Charizard panted, glaring at the sphere. He felt his senses wane slightly—his vision was focused entirely on Manny. He wasn’t sure if this was just working with the heat of battle or losing himself to it. He had a lot of fight left in him—and he wanted to keep going. He saw an easy counter to stop Manny from launching an attack—at least, he thought he did. But he also didn’t want to become a Charmander again, if he even could. Strategizing for something beyond the battle itself, he knew he had to surrender. He bowed his head and let his wings drop. Manny smirked, and the Sphere vanished. He leaned over and helped Owen up.

“Well, lookit you,” Manny said.

“Ugh, I think you broke something…” Owen mumbled, wincing at the pain near his core.

“Heh, maybe I overdid it a li’l,” he said. “We’ll get yeh a nice Oran Berry and it’ll heal yeh up right away. Maybe have Mispy take a look, too.”

“Yeah…” Owen said.

But Owen, despite his loss, knew that he was still relearning his old abilities. But more importantly, he knew something else—that he was put in peril… and didn’t lose control. He knew to hold back. His heart rate was normalizing; his easy breathing calmed his aura. The flame at the tip of his tail flared up with confidence. He was in control, now. This body was _his_ , now, and no Hunter could turn him into a weapon.

A passing thought about Rim flashed in Owen’s mind. The next time he saw her… he wanted to thank her for the game. Without it, Owen knew he’d still be a Charmeleon, brooding about his origin. Now—he was ready to take full advantage of it.


	37. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally at his full-powered form, Owen gets ambitious on what he'd like to do next. The group plans their next steps to stop the Hunters.

With the confirmation that Owen was stable in his fully evolved form, Amia was more than happy to take him to Kilo Village with Rhys to find some supplies to repair his inventory bag. Anam, missing all of the Hearts in the village, tagged along to see how things were doing with Nevren. He heard that some of the Pokémon were wondering how he and James were doing, anyway.

They appeared in the central arrival area in a flash of light. They stepped off the giant Waypoint; Owen marveled at how properly sized everything was now that he was as tall as most of the others. “Wow…” he said. “I kinda feel like I fit in with the other Hearts, now.”

“That’s good,” Rhys said. “This is technically the first time you’ve ever come to Kilo Village in this form. We were very careful to make sure you didn’t before.”

“Yeah, I don’t have any memories coming back about here now that I’m a Charizard,” he said. “So that’s good—I didn’t accidentally, or, um…”

“I will get the supplies for your bag, Owen,” Rhys said. “Why don’t you and the others follow Anam to the Association to catch up with Nevren?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Maybe we can take on a few Missions, Owen, if Nevren doesn’t have any Orb sightings,” Amia said.

“You know, I haven’t gone on a normal Mission in a while. Feels like forever! Ohh, but it’s already starting to get a little late in the afternoon…. But I think if I do, maybe tomorrow, the others might want to come with me—you know, Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi. I bet they’re itching to evolve, too.”

“Y-yes, well…” Amia said. “I don’t think you should be with them when that happens. Not yet.”

“…What do you mean, not yet?” Owen asked. “I thought I was over it. Isn’t it okay now? I can help calm them down if they aren’t ready!”

“No, that’s… that’s not it,” Amia said. “There’s still something we need to be careful about, Owen. Don’t you remember?”

“Remember…? No, I’m… I mean, I’m still kinda remembering stuff,” he said. “I didn’t take the time to think back yet. But it feels like… there’s still stuff missing. So, I think it’s still coming back to me.”

“Hmm…” Amia said. “Well… if they ever evolve in front of you—don’t get too close to them, okay?”

Owen hummed uncertainly. “Don’t get… too close. Okay.” The Charizard nodded, but then caught a few glances directed at him.

“Hey, look at you! Did you evolve? I never saw a Charizard before!”

“I have, but you look more… slim! It’s interesting! Are you from a different part of the region?”

“Y-yeah! I think I am! Must be why I look so different, ha…” Owen sighed. He passed as foreign. That was as much as he could hope for, he supposed. But then again, foreign wasn’t very far; as far as he knew, this was the only landmass in the whole world, beyond Zero Isle and that factory. He wouldn’t question it—as long as nobody found it to be suspicious.

“Goodra Anam! You’re back!”

“Goodra, Goodra!”

“Association Head Goodra—you’re…! What happened? Where have you been?”

“It’s okay!” Anam said. “I was on a big, big Mission! But I’m back now, and it’s okay!”

“Were you successful?”

“I’m still doing it! But I had some time to come back, since we’re still looking around. Did Nevren tell you all about the artifacts we’re trying to gather?”

“Y-yes! In fact, we’ve been looking far…” One of the Pokémon said. “But we’re running out of safe places to search.”

“Then they must be in the dangerous ones!” Anam said. “Don’t worry. We can handle those. But first, I need to see Nevren! Is he in my room?”

“He should be. A-and it’s good to see you again, Goodra!”

“Thanks!” Anam giggled and waved. Then, the slimy Pokémon climbed the stairs and headed into the Thousand Heart Association building. Owen was careful to not slip on the slime on his way in.

“Wow, it’s a little cramped in here, isn’t it?” Owen said.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Amia said. “I think you’re just too used to being so cute and small!”

“M-Mom…”

“Ohh, I’m sorry, dear. I couldn’t resist. But it’s so new to stand next to you and be shorter!”

“Right…” Owen sighed. “Well, let’s just see what Nevren found for us. And I want to know if he _knew_ that I could evolve and handle it or not….”

“Well, he’s a bit difficult to read, dear. Don’t forget that he’s an Alakazam—I feel like he’ll only really let you to know the truth if he wants you to.”

“Comforting.” Owen snorted. “But I think my power of awareness and stuff will make that a little hard for him.”

They entered the office; Nevren was looking over some of the newer reports that came in. He didn’t even know who it was that visited this time. “Ah, more information? If you have a report, please leave it on the desk.”

“It’s me, Nevren!” Anam said. “Oh, and Owen! Look!”

Nevren finally raised his head. His eyes lifted. “Owen! You evolved!” he said. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

“Just today,” Owen said proudly, hands on his hips. “I’ve been feeling pretty good about it, if you ask me. And look, it’s not even sunset!”

“Well, not sunset here,” said Amia. “It’s probably already quite late at Hot Spot Cave, and we just can’t tell since it’s underground.”

“Oh, yeah,” Owen nodded. “It’s crazy what a little warping around can do to time….”

 “Well, the position of the sun,” Nevren said. “After all, if you move fast enough, you can outpace the time of day by the sun’s position. Or you could cut the day’s length in half. The planet isn’t very large, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Amia repeated. “What an odd word, Nevren. I think the planet is just fine!”

“Well, it’s a bit on the small side, wouldn’t you think?” Nevren said. “The living population can’t be more than a few million.”

“That’s—a very big number, Nevren!” Amia said. “Honestly!” she giggled. “Such grand statements. The stars are too far away to think of other worlds.”

“Indeed, they are,” Nevren said. “Well! Owen, how are you enjoying your new body?”

“I love it,” Owen said. “I feel like I’m finally in the right scales. And the wings are really cool, too.” He flapped them lightly, careful not to blow at the many reports on the table. “But, about that…” he said. “Nevren, why did you… give me that stone?”

“The stone?” Nevren said. “Ahh… I imagine you figured it out by now—that I gave it to you because I was afraid the Suppression Aura wouldn’t be enough to contain you if you went berserk.”

“The—oh, the thing Rhys and Amia can do?”

“And the others, as they learn how to duplicate it,” Nevren said. “You understand. In case Demitri, Mispy, or Gahi lose themselves on their next evolution.”

“O-oh…” Owen said. He reconsidered his planned questions. “So… you were just making sure that…?”

Nevren sighed. “There were three options,” he said. “The first option was to continue your evolving over and over until you were finally stable enough to not reset. We have done that for a long time. You weren’t dangerous if we knew how to contain you. The second option would be what I did—keep your evolution suppressed outright, in case you became too powerful or too risky to put in your final form, even for a moment. With your Mystics powers, you were starting to resist the memory-loss effects of the Suppression Aura. If you went berserk, there was no telling whether you would be able to revert back. Then, we would have an Owen that was irreparably… damaged. So, we suppressed your aura until we were _certain_ that you were stable enough to handle it.”

“I guess… hm,” Owen said. “Guess it’s a good thing I was stable, huh?”

“I could sense it. Rhys could, too. The way your aura feels now, compared to the other times, is… different.” Amia said. “You’re… stable. But—don’t push yourself too hard, okay? We still need to be careful…”

“I know,” Owen said. “I’ll even have my Mystic power help a little, right? Nevren?”

“Hmm, in theory, that could very well work,” he said. “Mystic power could calm the…” Nevren paused, considering this. “Hm, actually—would you mind if I wrote some notes down? Thank you for the visit, I appreciate it. But I need to consider a few things. Ah—and there’s a sighting in the Frozen Oceanside to the north. Undoubtedly Ice. Perhaps prepare a team tomorrow?”

“O-oh! Okay!” Amia said. “Thanks—? And, er, good luck with the notes…?”

Owen nodded. “Um, Nevren?” he said. “What was option three…?”

“Hm? Three? Ah, yes—well, if we couldn’t suppress you, and you were berserk, we’d have to kill you.”

“O-oh, that’s… that’s good.” Owen gulped. “S-see you later?”

“Yes, I shall report to you my findings sometime tomorrow. Thank you.” He was already face-deep in his notes.

Owen slowly stepped out, hesitant to even make a sound. Amia gently reached up to hold his shoulder. Owen glanced back and tittered once they were outside. “I—guess I can’t blame him. He’s very… straightforward, and…”

“Utilitarian, perhaps,” Amia sighed. “A little too much. But that’s Nevren for you…”

Anam nodded. “I wouldn’t let him, though. I’d just… um… let you live in my Orb, or something! Like what Manny did! Umm…”

Owen sighed. “At least I’m past that,” he said. “Glad I waited to evolve….”

“We should take a look at that Ice area, huh? I guess that’s one little disadvantage to evolving,” Owen said. “Now that I’m part Flying, I don’t have a total advantage against it. But hey, Fire, right?”

“Frozen Oceanside has a lot of Water Types as well, Owen,” Amia said. “I think you should stay back for this one. No matter what form you take—your normal self or Grass—you won’t be in a good position. Why don’t you let us handle this one?”

Owen frowned. “Well—I mean, I guess so….”

“Don’t you worry,” Amia said. “I think we’ll have a great team! Well, I might stay behind, too. After our encounter with Brandon, maybe bringing the Fire Guardian to the Ice Guardian would give the wrong impression.”

“Are we sure it’s the Ice Guardian, though?” Owen said. “I mean, the Guardian could be throwing us off. What if it’s actually the Dark Guardian or something? Willow’s the Fiary Guardian but she lived in a field like where Klent lived. And Anam’s the Ghost Guardian but he lives in town! Well, lived. Now he’s with us. So…”

“It’s just the most likely Type. With what few Types are left, I don’t think it could hurt to just bring… Ice-Neutral Pokémon. So, no Manny, no Rhys, no me… hmm…”

“ADAM and Willow?” Owen said.

“Yes, that could work. Zena, perhaps? I’m not sure about Enet… but maybe her, too.”

Rhys returned and regrouped with a few supplies for repairing Owen’s inventory. Having heard the tail-end of the conversation, he said, “We should focus on a team of three. We can plan when we return home. Anam?”

“I don’t like Ice…” Anam said. “It makes my goo all crackly and hard…”

“But as the Ghost Guardian, surely you would be able to handle that,” Rhys said.

Anam shook his head. “I think the others will be okay, right? I’ll… um… I’ll go on a scouting mission! Yeah. To one of the more dangerous places, like… um… oh! How about Dark Mist Swamp?”

“That’s… a very bad idea,” Rhys said. “Dark Mist Swamp has a poison so potent that not even Steel Types like myself can last in it. It dissolves metal itself.”

“Yeah, but did we ever bring a Mystic close enough to feel if one of us live there? We should try!” Anam said.

“Oh, maybe I can—” Owen caught Amia’s look. “M-maybe I’ll… just… stay home and train the others….”

“That’s better,” Amia said, giving a firm squeeze on the Charizard’s shoulder.

 

“Hey, um, Zena?” Willow said.

“Hmm? Yes?” The Milotic asked, looking at the water deeper in the cave. It was warm, but not too warm—it was far enough from the magma that it was only like a nice bath, rather than something you could use for cooking.

“Tell me more about that friend. Because I keep forgetting who it is. Anam reminded you?”

“Yes, he did. And I’m still really upset that I didn’t remember her until now,” Zena said, huffing. “How could I? She was wonderful, and I forgot in my isolation, I’m sure. But now that I’m training, maybe my head is starting to clear up…” She breathed slowly. “She was a Lugia. Her name was Emily. She was so strong… Now that I think about it, she had a lot of Mystic properties to her. Maybe she _was_ , but I can’t remember it clearly. But it couldn’t have been Water… I remember I had it while she was still around. Maybe she still _is_ alive…! Because, well…” She trailed off. “I haven’t seen her in my spirit world. Surely she’d visit.”

“Lugia Emily… But how come _Anam_ reminded you of her?”

“I’m… not sure. I don’t remember,” Zena said. “I just need to clear my head more, I suppose. Maybe it was her personality. But Emily… I want to meet her again. I think I know where I can find her, if you’d like to come with me. And… hmm… I don’t really know who else.”

“Where would she be?”

“The ocean,” Zena said.

“…Okay…” Willow said. “And _where_ in the ocean?”

“Anywhere,” Zena said. “She’d know where you are. She always did… Yes, I remember now—she used to rescue Pokémon that were stranded in the ocean all the time! That was her… I suppose her talent. She was a healer, like Mispy.”

“Like Mispy? So, she was Synthetic?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Zena said. “Oh—we just have to meet her.” The Milotic seemed excited, now. “If there aren’t any sightings that I can go to, why don’t we take a slither along the beach?”

“Okay!” Willow said. “Oh! But I think I just felt Owen come back with the others! Let’s go and see them.”

“Mm.” Zena, along with most of the others, headed to the town square to greet Anam and the others. “Anam,” Zena said. “How was Nevren?”

“He’s doing just fine,” Anam said. “And! We’re gonna go to the Frozen Oceanside to rescue the maybe-Ice Guardian!”

“Oh—Frozen Oceanside, you say?” Zena said. “Ice… I might be useful there, don’t you think?” She sounded disappointed to admit it. So much for the beach.

“Do you think so? Water? I mean, I guess you could,” Anam said. “Ice is weak against Water, but….”

“Did you have someone else in mind?” Zena asked.

“Like Amia and Owen?” Willow said. “Oh, or me! Oceanside, so—lots of Water Pokémon!”

“A-actually, we were looking for more… neutral members,” Amia said. “People who wouldn’t be too strong or too weak against Ice. We were thinking maybe ADAM could go, with Willow? Even if you’re strong against Water, it’s not Ice, so…”

“Yeah! I can do that!” Willow said. “But… ADAM? Is he… stable?”

“He seems stable,” Anam said. “James?” he asked, summoning him.

The Decidueye emerged in a black fog from Anam. “Yes, while ADAM behaves oddly, he is predictable. We can trust him on such a Mission. Though, now that I envision the departure,” he hummed, “I am less certain that, between the two of them, they can communicate effectively with the Guardian.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Willow squeaked angrily. Pink sparks crawled on the ground around her.

“…Hm,” James said. “In any case, I would recommend a third member to… compliment their skillsets.”

“Hmm…” Anam said. “Do you think Manny is strong enough to send one of his spirits all the way there?”

“Doubtful,” James said. “Even with Manny’s strength, I don’t think a spirit would be able to retain a solid form so far away. Even I would look quite faded if I went to Kilo Village without you, and you’re likely our strongest Guardian, Anam.”

“Oh, Anam! Why don’t you just go?” Amia said. “Sure, as a Dragon you’d be in a bad spot, but—”

“N-no, I think it’s okay,” Anam shook his head. “Umm…! I think it’d be okay if Zena went instead. I’m gonna go someplace else to investigate a really dangerous area instead—Dark Mist Swamp. I bet there’s a Guardian there, maybe the Poison one, right?”

“…Hmm… I would be careful about that,” Rhys said. “Again, there are quite a few stories about that place. The poison there is not normal. Pokémon… they can’t last in such a place.”

Owen crossed his arms. “Wait, Poison…” he said. “Brandon mentioned that the Trinity consisted of the Dragon, Steel, and Poison Guardians, right? …I think I’ll go there,” he said. “With you, if you want, Anam.”

“B-but, Owen--!” Amia said.

“Brandon treated me just fine,” Owen said. “I think maybe I can get through to this Poison Guardian, too, right?”

“I’m feelin’ kinda funny…” Gahi mumbled to himself.

“I—I guess so,” Amia said to Owen. “But… It’s dangerous! Even if you’re Mystic, you’re still the Grass Guardian! And that place is—extremely dangerous! We should wait. Let’s just focus on the Frozen Oceanside, okay? What other places haven’t we explored yet?”

“Well…” Anam said. “Nevren would know that. But all the dangerous places, probably. It’s a good thing we already found the Fire Guardian, or we’d be looking in volcanoes!” He giggled.

Amia sighed. “You know, we’re making all of these plans,” she said, “but it’s quite late, isn’t it?”

“Do I even have to sleep anymore?” Owen asked.

“Well, no, but… it _is_ a good idea to rest your aura. Constant strain can weaken it, even as a Guardian,” Amia said. “Perhaps we can meditate for a while?”

“That sounds good,” Anam said. “I’m beat!”

“Y-you hardly did anything!” Owen said.

The Goodra giggled.

“Hmm, I could use some rest as well,” Rhys said. “We shall continue our plans in the morning.”

“Okay…” Owen sighed. “But I’m gonna go to that swamp tomorrow. Someone strong can come with me. Anam, how about you, like you wanted?”

“Okay!”

“Sleep for now, dear,” Amia begged. “We’ll think about it in the morning.”

Grudgingly, the Charizard nodded and headed to their home. Gahi, Demitri, and Mispy stared enviously at him.

“Owen…” Mispy said.

“Huh? Oh, Mispy?” Owen asked.

The Bayleef puffed out her cheeks. “I wanna evolve, too.”

Owen tittered. “H-hey, you’ll get there,” he encouraged. “Maybe before I do that swamp stuff, I can help you train…?”

“That’s better,” Mispy said. Demitri scratched at his tusks nervously; for a Grass Type, Mispy certainly had a fire in her heart. Gahi buzzed his wings excitedly, and they departed, readying themselves for a busy morning.


	38. The Hunters' Leader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a brief moment to rest, Owen rises to a frantic flight from Hot Spot Cave. Afterward, they encounter the Pokemon behind many of their problems.

The forest within Owen’s spirit was bright as ever, and the Charizard was happy to revisit the former Grass Guardian at night. While still ‘daytime’ within this realm, Owen was mentally exhausted and wanted a break.

“Klent?” Owen called. “Hey, Klent! How do I look, huh?” he said.

The spirits witnessed the transformation from within, but they didn’t see him in person until just then. They recognized the form instantly—but were unnerved at how calm he was compared to their first encounter, so long ago.

“Owen,” Klent said. “You’re… so… calm.” He floated a bit closer and prodded at his leg tentatively, nervously. The way Owen reacted was nothing like he’d imagined just days before….

“Calm, huh? I mean—I guess compared to how I used to be…” He rubbed his left horn nervously. “I’m sorry if me being here is bringing back any memories. I mean….”

The deceased Jumpluff shook his head. “If anything, it’s helping,” Klent said gently. “That was a long time ago. It’s good to see the same thing, in a different way. Amelia is… a bit nervous, of course, but….”

Owen felt her presence in the bushes, and he nodded. “It’s alright. I figure it’s gonna be the hardest for her. I’m gonna be leaving anyway—I wanted to see Star and Hecto. Have a few questions to ask.”

“Oh? About what?”

“Just some things I saw at the factory.”

“Ahh…” Klent nodded. “Well. I’ll be seeing you.”

Owen nodded and walked straight ahead, following the rules of the spirit world. The bright forest he knew transitioned into trees with a blue, ethereal glow. Owen thought back to his last time there—he was a Charizard then, too, wasn’t he? But a normal one. He knocked a claw against the sharp tip of his horns. He wasn’t quite normal this time, but… he preferred it this way.

He felt someone nearby. From the walking pattern and softness of the steps, it was pretty obvious who it was. “Hecto? Are you there?”

“Yes.”

Owen sighed. “You’re pretty much everywhere, aren’t you?”

“Not precisely everywhere,” Hecto replied. “Are you here to see Star?”

“Yeah, actually. Um, is she in her cave and stuff? I can just walk that way if you want.”

“That will be fine. I imagine you are here to discuss our encounter in the abandoned factory. About Brandon, the humans, trainers, and their culture?”

“I mean—more or less, yeah,” Owen said. “Like, why Barky wants to keep that factory there when he can just destroy it whenever he wants through Brandon?”

“Brandon likely doesn’t have the power necessary to destroy the factory in its entirety,” Hecto said. “I also imagine he wants to use it as leverage.”

“Leverage?” Owen said.

“It is more advantageous to have the ability to use those items rather than nobody use them at all, risky as it is,” Hecto said.

“Do you know why Brandon was sent from the human world?” Owen asked. “It seems crazy to think of a human that became a Pokémon at all. I mean—it’s crazy! I thought humans were just scary stories that Mom made up to keep me behaved. But they’re real?”

“They are, though they are not very strong,” Hecto said. “You have little to fear of them. A Pokémon with the same equipment would be significantly more dangerous.”

Owen saw the mountain ahead. “So, you’re saying that there’s a whole other universe with humans in it?” he said.

“Hmm… yes,” Hecto said.

“Wow…” Owen nodded. “That’s pretty cool to see another million or so humans, huh?”

Hecto didn’t say anything. Instead, he pointed out, “Ah, I believe Star is coming down now.”

“He-ey, Owen!” Star waved from the mouth of the cave. She hopped out and floated until she was in front of the Charizard, bumping his chest. “Ha ha—look at you! All evolved and sane at the same time! Took long enough, right?”

“No kidding,” Owen said. He laughed. “Actually, I was a little worried for a few seconds, but I’m glad that it turned out okay after all. Um—Star, do you know if I can go insane again?”

“On your own? Probably not, but… just keep an eye out for Gahi, Demitri, and Mispy, still. They might make you go crazy again, but don’t think too much about it yet.”

“That’s the second time someone told me that,” Owen said. “The mere thought about thinking about what they used to be could send me over the edge, just like that?”

“I mean… maybe?” Star said. “Just try not to think too hard, okay? Besides, it’s probably still too blurry. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Ugh, okay,” Owen muttered. He didn’t want to risk everything for a little curiosity. But maybe if he did a little peek…?

Star giggled. “But look at you, all grown up! I mean, you’ve been a grown up forever, but, I mean it more in a literal sense. You’re a little above average in height for a ‘Zard, huh?”

“Yeah, and good thing, too,” he said. “Last thing I wanted was to still be shorter than Enet after all that trouble she gave me for being small….”

The most minute of smirks appeared for a split-second on Hecto’s face.

“Man, Owen, I didn’t think you’d be the sort to care about height! But you’re right. You’d think Charizard would be bigger in general, huh? But no, they’re a little on the small side for _pseudo_ dragons.”

“Ngk—you take that back!”

Star bumped her tiny fist on Owen’s chest. “Hey, let’s go someplace! What do you want to do, Owen? We should totally celebrate!”

“C-Celebrate? Where? How?”

Star flicked her tail; a dark blue portal appeared behind her. “C’mon! I wanna show you someplace fun.”

Star tugged at Owen’s claw, and he followed. But Hecto didn’t move. “Uh, Hecto?” Star said. “You’re invited, too, y’know!”

“We may need to reschedule,” Hecto said.

Star stopped tugging. “What do you mean? Is…?”

“Owen should wake up.”

“Huh?” Owen asked; he felt a sort of phantom sensation of someone pushing at his shoulder. He swatted gently at it, but then his whole body shook. “What’s…?”

The next thing Owen knew, he was groggy and blinking in the dim glow of the Hot Spot mushrooms.

“Owen, you must wake up. Owen!” Rhys said.

“Muh—huh? What?”

“Owen, get up! We need to leave.”

“Uhh—”

Rhys tried to lift Owen up, and he dumbly stumbled around until finally shaking himself awake. “What’s going on?” he said. “Is it morning?”

“Follow me. I don’t have time, just follow me.”

“Mrgh…” Owen sluggishly walked behind him. Rhys urged Owen to go faster; grudgingly, he did.

Almost everybody was in the middle of town; Demitri and Mispy were being carried out by Azu and Roh, while Gahi sped over to Owen.

“Oy, Owen! Wake up!” he said. “We gotta run! Yer holdin’ us back!”

“What do you mean?! What’s going on?”

Anam was fiddling around for his Badge; many others were doing the same. It looked like there was enough Badge power to bring everybody somewhere else. Owen felt something approaching, too. Now that he was more awake, he took the time to tune his aura to it. What was that…? It was an intense power, a bit away from the entrance to the cave. He couldn’t tell if it was stronger or weaker than that he’d felt from Zero Isle, but it was, at the very least, a lot closer—and a lot stronger than any other aura he’d felt before. He gulped. Why did it also feel familiar? And he sensed someone else, too. “Wait—I think I feel Rim,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” Rhys said. “But don’t you also feel Eon?”

“Th- _that’s_ Eon!?” Now he remembered. The leader of the Hunters—the one who told Rim where to go, told Nevren what to research, Rhys who to fight. He was here? Now? “Why?” Owen asked. “Why’s he—”

“I don’t intend to find out,” Rhys said. “Let’s go! We have to move!”

Anam and the others raised their Badges. In a flash of light, they all vanished.

 

If it wasn’t for Owen’s tail or Rhys’ aura, they’d be blind in their destination. “Oh—goodness, how dark!” Amia said. She waved her hand in front of her, but even her blue flames seemed inhibited by the thick atmosphere.

“This isn’t a normal sort of darkness,” Rhys said. “It feels like something more. Like our light is being… drawn away. I can barely see.”

“Oooh… I don’t like the dark all that much…” Anam said, shivering. “Especially the kind where even the light doesn’t help…”

Amia felt the ground. It was oddly soft, and had a lot of give, like thick grass. “What a strange material,” she said, standing back up. “I don’t know how to describe it, but… it doesn’t feel that good.”

“Feels fine ter me,” Gahi said, rubbing at the ground with one of his feet. “Dunno what it is, though.”

“It might not be a normal material,” said Rhys. “I’m sensing the presence of an Orb nearby. Anam—where did the Badges take us?”

“Ah, I can explain,” Nevren said through the communicator. “We may as well multitask. I instructed Anam to take you to where there were sightings of a strange aura in a cavern deep within the ground, far to the east. You’re in the depths of a place known as the Chasm of the Void. We set up a registry here quite some time ago but found nothing the first time.”

“Comforting.” Owen looked around, but even his enhanced eyesight saw nothing. He had to work with his feelings instead; he sensed that they were in someplace quite expansive. He could fly quite a few body lengths into the air without any trouble. He also sensed that there was somebody watching them—but he had no idea where. It felt like everywhere…. Perhaps that was literal. “Um—hello?” Owen called.

“Owen, what’s wrong?” Amia asked.

“I feel like… someone’s here, but I don’t know where, or… anything else.”

“So, just that they’re here,” Rhys said. “Hmm. That’s concerning. Excuse me—Guardian! Please reveal yourself! We mean you no harm—in fact, we would like to help you! So, if you could just come with us…”

They were answered with silence.

“…A bit shy, don’t you think?” Amia said.

“Maybe… nervous,” Enet said, looking around. She could relate—after all, with a party this large suddenly invading her home, she’d be afraid, too. And with how strong she knew they were, well—for all she knew, this Guardian was plotting to run away. “We’re… too big.”

“Too big, hmm…” Rhys said.

“Too big? Oh! Then I can just shrink us down!” Willow said.

“N-no, no! We don’t need to do that, uhh—” Owen couldn’t tell where anybody was unless he concentrated on his awareness ability. They had to work with just voices. “How about we just… have one of us move forward, and maybe try to interact with this Guardian, or something? I know they’re still watching—I can feel it, y’know? So, if something bad happens, I’ll know, but I think they’re just nervous. So… uh… I guess I’ll go.”

“Oh, I can go, dear,” Amia said, moving forward.

“Ngh—”

“S-sorry, Manny!”

“Eh?”

“Oh, you’re there? Then this must be Rhys.”

“Y-yes,” Rhys said. “Can you not see my aura?”

“No, I can’t. Can you see mine?”

“…No. I can’t.”

“Great, so even our aura senses are being blocked. That’s kinda powerful,” Owen said. “Enet, you can’t even do that.”

“What’s… aura, again?” Enet asked.

“Uh, the… I’ll explain later,” Owen said. “Guys? How far is everyone from everyone? Do we know? Uh—spread out your wings, or arms, or whatever, let’s try to figure out….”

After a lot of fumbling, Owen got an idea of how close everybody was. They were scattered randomly within their range of warping, perhaps a stone’s throw in diameter. On the outermost edges was Demitri, Valle, Zena, and Enet; near the center was Anam, himself, Gahi, and Amia. Everybody else was scattered between the center and the outer ring. “Okay, uh… Zena, how about you slither forward a little, and try to talk to the Guardian?”

“Mm, okay. Is this forward?”

“No, uh—no, turn, turn, turn… okay, now go forward….”

Owen ‘watched’ Zena’s advance, and once she was ten paces away, he said, “Okay, stop! That should be fine enough, uhh… okay. Guardian? Are you there? Is it okay if you come out now?”

It was still quiet.

Owen sighed. “He must be _really_ shy…” he said. “Or…” He still felt threatened, Owen theorized. He looked around, but no matter how much he did, he wouldn’t see. Swiveling his head around was just useless muscle memory. “Well, uh….” But then, he _did_ sense something else. But he didn’t like what it was. “Oh, no.”

“What is it, dear?” Amia said.

“Y-you can’t feel it?” he asked.

“The darkness is dulling even our aural senses, Owen. Only you can sense what is here,” Rhys said. “What is it?”

“Hello.”

The voice was like ice on their spine. It was familiar and foreign; the _sound_ was almost exactly like Rhys, but the _tone_ was unmistakably unlike him. It _wasn’t_ Rhys.

“Who—who’s that?!” Anam said.

“Oh, me? I think you know who I am,” said a voice that _sounded_ like Anam, but _spoke_ nothing like her.

“Th-that’s not funny!” Anam said. He pulled his tail around his body and gave it a tight squeeze, oozing fearful goo on the darkness below.

“Eon…” Rhys hissed. “Why are you here?”

Eon mimicked the sound of the last person he spoke to, like it was some sort of game. “I’m here simply to say hello, perhaps investigate why you’re gathering the Orbs _conveniently_ at the same time I am. Trying to stop me, I take it…”

In the dark, none of the group dared start a fight. They didn’t know where anybody was—and if Eon was mimicking voices, he could easily make them hit each other. Perhaps they could take him on if they were all grouped against him—he wasn’t _that_ powerful, right?

“But… but why?” Amia said. “You’re the leader of the Hunters, r-right? So why are you doing this? Any of it, I mean? We just—want to live peacefully!”

“You can’t live peacefully and live together at the same time,” Eon said. The careless tone combined with Amia’s voice made Owen want to vomit.

In an effort to have Eon sound like anybody but his mother, Owen spoke up. “What do you mean, can’t have peace? Pokémon live in peace all the time together!”

“But not as a Guardian,” said Eon. “Not with the power we all have in play. Not with the powers that are playing with _us_.”

“…Eh?” Manny said.

“Do you really think you’re fighting for yourselves and for your peace?” Eon said.

“Uh—” Owen said.

“That you really think that gathering everyone together so you’ll be _happy_ is what Star really wants? You never thought that perhaps she has another motive?”

“I mean—”

“She had centuries to bring you all together, and only _now_ , when I make my move, does she try to gather you together. Isn’t that _odd_?”

“Wait—!” Owen quickly said. “Star said that she made you guys, but then had a change of heart when you went crazy!”

“Oh, went crazy!” Eon said. “What a story! Truly, _I’m_ the crazy one for trying to do precisely what I was asked to do. _I_ was supposed to gather the Orbs _for her_ , but then she gets a change of heart and wants to stop it all.”

“Yeah, because you _killed them_.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wh—yes? You killed us! I mean—no, not us, the Flying and Ground Guardians!”

“I did,” Eon said. “Or, I sent others to kill them, to take their Orbs. But I sent Elder first.”

“Elder…” Rhys said. “You still send him?”

“Of course,” Eon said.

“Who’s Elder?” Owen asked.

“Sounds old,” Gahi said.

“We’re all old,” Demitri mumbled. “Rhys? Who’s Elder?”

“He’s a Torkoal…” Rhys said. “He used to be the first person we’d send to a Guardian to negotiate whether we’d take the Orb or not from them. But… I thought that plan was over with.”

“Oh, no, I still try,” Eon said. “The Guardians just don’t listen when he speaks to them. I just sent him on a mission to the Frozen Oceanside, actually. I wouldn’t bother going there at this point—we might have a new Guardian on our side, after all.”

“Yer bluffin’,” Gahi said.

“Nrgh…” Rhys said. “You should leave, Eon. None of us can see anybody, and Owen can. You wouldn’t win in a fight here.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll put up a good fight… but I’m not here for that. Guardian of the Dark Orb!” he said. “If you wish to speak with Elder, I will be sending him over in a few days.  I’d suggest you don’t make any decisions until he comes, so you can hear _all sides_ of the story.”

“All sides?” Owen asked. He felt Eon’s presence turn around. “W-wait! I’m—not gonna let you go! You’re going to answer my questions, and—”

“You just want to fight me,” Eon said. “But I don’t have time for that.”

“Too bad!” Owen opened his mouth and blasted Eon with a Flamethrower; everybody ducked, feeling the heat, but Owen knew just where to aim. Eon couldn’t dodge well in the darkness; he bumped into somebody. They retaliated with an angry bite on his hand.

“Ngh—! How _dare_ you!” he shook his hand and knocked Enet away. She yelped.

“D-don’t you hurt her!” Owen shouted. He fired an Air Slash at Eon, suspecting that he was mimicking his form, based on the sound of his voice. He fired again; Eon didn’t feel like he was getting hurt at all. But he was being a nuisance—maybe he could buy some time for the others to escape. “E-Everyone! Try to get him! Maybe we can take his Orb, or—something!”

“You can certainly try,” Eon said. “But I would be more worried about—your—friends!” Owen felt a strange aural pulse radiate off of Eon. He recognized this aura—and he clutched at his head, feeling his senses slip away. He had to focus to keep calm. It felt like the exact opposite of Rhys’ Suppression Aura. But that meant—

“Nggg…. Rrrr….”

Owen knew that growl. “G-Gahi! Gahi, stay calm! Stay—”

A white light of black sparks illuminated the room.

“No!” Rhys said. He fired a Suppression Aura, but it did nothing.

“There’s no fixing it this time, Rhys! You can’t counter my Unleashing Aura!” Eon shouted. “Let’s see if you can fix your mistakes!”

The light was fading; in a confined place like this, if Gahi lost it in a stressful situation…. No, they might never get him back. “H-hang on!” Owen shouted. He grabbed a Badge and ran toward the light. He thrust the Badge in the air—and the two of them, just himself and Gahi, vanished from the void.


	39. Hyper Agility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and Gahi face off one on one, but the outcome of the battle is less than favorable for either of them. Amia and the others catch up to handle the aftermath.

Owen squinted at the morning light. After being in the pitch-dark Chasm of the Void, anywhere else in the world was a strain on the eyes. He saw the brightest light in front of him, shining with black sparks of corrupted evolutionary energy. “G-Gahi?” Owen said. The Badge had warped them to the outside of the Chasm in an emergency exit. It indeed looked like a void from above. They were in a big, lime-green field of grass; this field surrounded a great, circular pit that would take Owen at least a minute to fly over at full speed. He couldn’t see the bottom. He smelled ocean water—they must have also been close to the shore, though he couldn’t tell which direction it was.

Gahi didn’t say anything in reply. Owen’s eyes finally adjusted to the light of the sun and the white-black glow enveloping Gahi faded. Gahi, a Synthetic Flygon, was similarly slim as Owen was, but had scales with a blinding sheen. Even after the light completely faded, Gahi’s body reflected the sun well enough to make it hard to stare directly at him. It made sense—if Gahi’s entire specialty was agility and evasion, being hard to look at would add to the latter.

“Are you… are you okay?” Owen asked. But he knew the answer. He could _feel_ it radiating from the explosively turbulent aura the Flygon had.

Gahi growled; his arms were shaking. His tail flicked to the left, and then the right. The little fan at the tip of his tail cut through the grass with ease. He had a crazed look behind the red goggle-like spheres on his face. His wings stretched wide and angled themselves to the light, blinding Owen.

Gahi evolved—and Owen remembered he was supposed to stay away from him, wasn’t he? But why? And if he ran—what would Gahi do in response? Would he chase after him, or go someplace else? No—he couldn’t let that happen. Not when he was so unstable. Besides, it was Gahi. There was no outrunning that.

“Gahi, take a breath. Can you do that? Can you… can you meditate, Gahi?”

Gahi huffed, bringing his trembling arms forward to stare at them. He clenched his fists the same way Owen did; the Charizard recognized this stance. He was trying to contain himself. He was still _there_. There was still a bit of him fighting to stay stable.

“Gahi, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. Gahi, can you talk? Can you hear me?”

He was still trembling, but there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. The mutated Flygon gave a shaky nod. He breathed, eyes closed, in and out. Owen watched Gahi’s aura nervously, but it looked like it wasn’t improving. It wasn’t _completely_ unstable, but it wasn’t calm, either.

“G-Gahi?”

The aura flared, like a flame disturbed by a drop of water. The Flygon made a sort of short roar, almost like a grunt or a bark, and stared at Owen, right into his eyes. Then, in an instant, Gahi went from standing away from Owen to being mere inches from him. Reflexively, the Charizard backed away; a Fire Trap separated them, leaving Gahi with a burn by luck alone.

“G-Gahi! Calm down!” Owen shouted, but his words weren’t going through. Given how fast he was, there was no way Owen could run away; he’d have to calm him down the old-fashioned way. “Okay, so if that’s what you want—then—fine! I’ll just beat you down!”

Gahi moved too quickly for Owen to keep track of. The mere forces acting on the Flygon’s body must have been substantial to accelerate and decelerate so quickly; it must be part of a special mechanism within him, perhaps even a Move on its own, to handle the forces involved. A modified Extremespeed, Owen theorized—but he had a feeling Gahi wasn’t going to tire out of using that technique for a while. Why Gahi would be attacking him, he wasn’t sure—perhaps he wanted to train, and this was his only way of expressing it.

Owen opened with a Flamethrower in a wide semicircle; Gahi jumped and beat his wings once, going high into the air. But Owen already planted his trap; every ember he made from the blast resulted in a small Fire Trap. The entire field was covered in them. He hoped the grass was lush enough to withstand the flames. There was no other way for Gahi to attack while on the ground, and as long as he stayed down there, too, he’d be just fine.

Wait. As a Flygon, didn’t Gahi know Earth Power?

The ground erupted beneath him, triggering the Fire Traps that he planted. “Oh, come on!” Owen shouted over the explosions. He beat his wings; the Ground attack was easy to avoid, but the exploding Fire Traps were another story. He’d have to avoid the ground. Perhaps he could try something aerial instead; he had a few techniques in mind. He beat his wings again, at the same altitude as Gahi. Then, he loosened more embers from his wings, creating little, glowing orbs of fire in the air—floating Fire Traps. It was perfect! There was no way Gahi could—

Gahi sped through the traps and tackled Owen; he hit him with such velocity and moved through the air so quickly that the traps exploded too late. They exploded behind him, while Owen felt as if a few bones in his body broke from the impact. “Ufhooo--!” Owen wheezed.

Gahi growled and dug his claws into Owen’s shoulders.

“Wh—ow! What’s your problem?! No grabbing!” Owen shook himself free and pushed Gahi away; he launched an Air Slash to push Gahi away, compressed air shrinking and expanding to force the Flygon out of the way. Gahi hissed back, finally taking a hit, but Owen was still at a disadvantage. Two more hits would finish the Charizard off, but Owen felt like he had to land three. But how?! Gahi was so fast—his traps didn’t have the time to react! He moved unpredictably; he had no pattern to read, no way to guess where he’d go next. And even if he did have a plan, Gahi would take him out by then. Even with foresight, even with his awareness ability, he didn’t have the _speed_ to keep up with him.

That’s when a memory came to his mind. Gahi and Owen sparred like this all the time. He sparred with everyone—but except for a small handful of matches… Owen lost against Gahi every single time. He was just too fast. And the way this battle was going—

“Gahi! I g-give up!” Owen said. “You win! Okay? You win!”

Gahi suddenly stopped. His eyes were crazed, but the fact that he stopped—did that mean he got through? Is that all he wanted, just to win?

“Gahi?” Owen said.

The Flygon took another wingbeat forward. It was calmer than before, but with intent. Owen didn’t like it. He stepped back. “Hey, let’s talk, first, okay? Gahi? Can you hear me?”

Gahi puffed softly. “I win…” he finally said.

“Y-yes! Yes, you win! You win, win, win—so, we can stop fighting, right? Is that okay?”

Every beat that Owen took backwards was matched by an advance from Gahi. What was going on? Why was Gahi behaving so strangely? Why did he _grab_ him? That wasn’t part of his normal strategy. In fact, now that he thought about it—when Gahi tried to grab him back then, it felt as if—

The Flygon dashed right at Owen, grappling against him by the shoulders. And he felt it again—he knew what was going on, now. Memories rushed back, but he had no time to make heads or tails of it. Flashes of old images—Gahi in front of him, and then vanishing—intense power washing through his whole being—and then—and then… _madness_.

“Gahi, STOP!” Owen pushed him away with an Air Slash. There was a strong tug at his shoulder blade—he turned his head to look at the left one and saw that Gahi’s claws were _inside_ of him. But when he pushed away, Gahi broke loose—and his body, to his horror, meshed itself back into a solid form, like he was made of some kind of loose clay.

Nevren—what twisted design did he create? What _was_ he? Owen had no time to ponder further. Gahi couldn’t get any closer. Just one good tackle could do it. He had to flee.

Gahi had flinched from the Air Slash; Owen took advantage of this and fired another, landing a direct blow. Gahi, dazed, was spun around, clutching at his head. Owen’s best plan of action was to fly away right then—as far away as he could. But he couldn’t go straight into town—not when Gahi was like this. And he couldn’t go back into the Chasm, either—Gahi could rampage in the dark and hurt himself. He needed someplace open. Somewhere that he could possibly tire himself out. They were both Synthetic, after all—they had similar amounts of stamina.

The salty smell in the air gave him the clue he needed. The ocean! It was perfect! Owen took off and gained some altitude; he saw the ocean once he was high enough and accelerated desperately. His heart raced; he could hear the beat over the wind. The adrenaline was fogging his thoughts; that feeling of power from Gahi was addicting. A tiny, tiny part of him wanted to go back and let Gahi take him. And this made him beat his wings even faster, trying to outfly his own thoughts. Horror and defiance overtook his mind in a futile attempt to snuff out his primal desire.

He was above the ocean. He had only seconds to relax; his hyper awareness was at its maximum from the stress coupled with his Mystic power. He could sense every single creature below him in the water; every bystander and curious Wild, and something else, too—something big, deep below. And he also felt a powerful presence behind him—Gahi—and several more emerging from the Chasm. They saw him—Rhys and the others were chasing after him right then. Surely, they could help! But he had to last until they caught up.

Owen looked back. Gahi was hot on his tail—even at maximum speed, Gahi was going to catch up to him in less than ten seconds. “No…! I…! There has to be a way…!” Owen fired an Air Slash. Gahi dodged with ease, twisting in the air.

Five seconds. Owen fired his Fire Traps and then an Air Slash to stop Gahi, but he flew all around the whole trap and barely lost even a second of time to it.

Three seconds. Owen, desperate, dove down, halving his distance from the water.

One second left. A thousand possibilities and all the awareness of three seconds’ of Gahi’s traveling distance filled Owen’s mind. He sorted through countless possible scenarios and maneuvers with his one, precious second. Everything above and below, ahead and behind.

He found no way out but to beg. “Gahi, _PLEASE_!”

They collided; Gahi grabbed Owen’s shoulders again, and they were face to face, in a tailspin toward the ocean’s surface. “Gahi—we’ll go crazy—we can’t…! We can’t…!”

Gahi stared at Owen, and that’s when the Charizard realized it. Gahi didn’t want to, either. But his eyes were desperate—it was like staring into the eyes of a starved, Wild Pokémon. He didn’t want to do it—but he _had_ to. It was a compulsion—an _instinct_ , a _core need_ of his being. There was no logic. Gahi knew he couldn’t handle it. But his design was too strong—he wasn’t Mystic like Owen was. He had no special power to fight his instincts. His mind was all he had—and that mind was barely there.

And so, Gahi shoved his head into Owen’s neck. Owen gasped, like the wind was knocked out of him; a hug and a squeeze that went straight to his core. Gahi’s head vanished into him, followed by his neck, and then the shoulders. The Flygon’s body was halfway inside of Owen’s chest. Owen helplessly grabbed Gahi’s sides and tried to pull him out, but it was like his body became quicksand. His vision was blurring. And the worst part of it all, what made Owen more terrified and helpless than anything else—was that he _loved it_.

Gahi sank deeper and deeper until nothing was left. Owen’s body shifted and twisted into something new—a second set of wings, angular like a Flygon’s, and a shiny, green body. The single flame at the end of his tail became three embers that resembled a Flygon’s fans. Owen’s head was filled with the crazed thoughts of a Synthetic. Gahi’s mind bumped against Owen’s, and that last, remaining part of the Charizard begged for Gahi to back out. But it was too late. He felt Gahi’s thoughts—his last thoughts seemed to be about Rhys, Demitri, and Mispy. Owen thought about them, too—and all his friends. He felt something below him in the ocean. It was watching. Owen thought about his mother. His father What would they think…? He thought about Willow, too scared to speak. Amia crying his name. The thoughts were fleeting. Fading.

Soon after, he didn’t think of much at all.

 

“There!” Rhys shouted. “I see them! But…! N-no…! It… how did it happen so quickly?! Owen—! He should have—!”

“No!” Amia said. “We—we can still help! We just have to—we just need to…!”

Rhys, flying by the power of his aura, looked back at all of the Mystics with them—and Demitri and Mispy, riding atop Zena’s back. “They’re falling,” Demitri said. “Are they…? Did they stop fighting?”

“There’s just one…” Mispy said. “But… but the aura…. It’s so strong…”

“They fused together,” Rhys stated lowly. He saw the pair, now one, land in the water. “We don’t have a lot of time—we have to get there quickly and see what we can do. Try to split them apart—they must be adjusting, but if we take too long…!”

“Let’s speed up,” Anam said. “I’ll try to help as much as I can! Even if I need to…!” He gulped.

“What should we expect?” Manny said. “I’ve seen fusion befer with th’ spirits, but I dunno what these guys’re gonna be like. They’re at the edge o’ stability, right?”

“They were pushed to their very limit,” Rhys said. “And a fusion of all four—I don’t know how we’d be able to handle it. Demitri, Mispy, I need you to be very careful—do you feel yourselves evolving?”

“I felt the Unleashing Aura a little, but…” Demitri shook his head. “I think—I’ll be okay.”

Mispy nodded. “But Gahi and…”

“We need to watch out for that. Owen’s Hyper Awareness and Gahi’s Hyper Speed means that they will both be fully aware of any of our advances, and fast enough to dodge them.”

“What—then how do you hit him?! How can we stop him!?” Amia said.

“Simple,” Rhys said. “We have to generate an attack that they simply can’t avoid. Aura Sphere from two sides, or something that will overwhelm their lacking offenses. Focus on unavoidable strategies that overwhelm. Understood?!”

“Right!” They all said.

Zena looked down at a dark spot in the water, deep below. It moved oddly. “Hm?” she said. “Is that…?”

“Um—what do we call them?” Willow asked. “Gahi and Owen—what do we call them if they’re fused? Do they answer to something?”

“They’d probably answer to either name,” Rhys said. “But… I don’t know what they’d answer to as a unique name.”

“Gawen! Calm down!” Willow yelled. “Meditate!”

“I don’t think that’s something they’d pick,” Rhys muttered, readying a powerful Suppression Aura. “I wish it wouldn’t have to come to this—but they have to return to their lowest forms again. We’ll have to start again. But hopefully it will be faster this time.” He fired while the fused Pokémon was still trying to get out of the water. It was a direct hit; Amia followed up with her own blast, which also hit. Both blasts pierced, permeated, and enveloped the fused Mod, but when it faded…

Nothing happened. The Flygon-Charizard amalgam stared up at the group.

“This…,” Rhys said. “This is… the worst-case scenario.”

Gawen, for a split second, vanished from view, leaving only a high trail of water where he was once swimming.

“Behind us!” Rhys said, knowing this pattern. And indeed, he was there, high above and preparing a strike—a Flamethrower. Mispy countered with a Light Screen, creating a barrier of energy to block any distanced attacks from their new foe. Zena fired a Hydro Pump to neutralize the blast, creating a wave of steam. This forced Gawen to fly to the right to dodge the plume. “To the right!” Rhys said, but then they vanished again. “Where did—” this wasn’t part of a pattern he was familiar with. He turned around and saw a flash of Gawen’s body, but that was it. That’s when he realized— “We’re surrounded by his traps! Be careful!”

“H-how surrounded is surrounded?” Amia asked.

Manny spotted little pinpricks of energy scattered on all sides. “Pretty surrounded.” He clicked his tongue in thought. “I’ll fix it. Oy, Rhys. I want yeh ter jus’… throw as many Aura Spheres as yeh can, yeah?”

“Y-yes, of course. But the traps…”

“We’ll shield against it. Mispy!”

“Y-yes!”

“Keep yer Light Screen up!”

“O-okay!”

Manny dug through their bag. “Eh?” he said. “Well lookit that, Owen had a plan.”

“H-he did?” Rhys asked. He didn’t have time to be surprised. “What did he bring?”

Manny grabbed something from the bag—a Dungeon Orb of some kind. He thrust it in the air; Gawen hissed and blasted another plume of fire, but the Orb took effect right after. A shocking energy radiated out and the Charizard-Flygon fusion stopped in his place, frozen in time, not even falling.

“Hah! It worked!” Manny said. “Well lookit that, can’t fight against a Petrify Orb, can yeh?! Okay, what else did ‘e pack… eh… Oran Berry, some Max Elixirs, eh… hah! Lookit this!” Manny tossed another item toward Gawen, taking careful aim—it landed right in his mouth and burst. The petrification ended, but Gawen retched and clutched at his throat, roaring in anguish.

“Wh-what did you do?!” Amia said.

“Vile Seed,” Manny said. “We stand a chance! C’mon—we gotta get ‘im now, while his defenses’re shot!”

Rhys hesitated, but agreed. “I will do my best,” he said, and then aimed a paw right for Gawen.

The fusion spat a Flamethrower at the group, dodging nearly every attack that they threw toward him. Willow learned that Gawen was at least partially Ground Type, as her Electric attacks did next to nothing; she transitioned to Moonblasts, but they were too slow to hit the speed from Gahi’s half. Zena’s Hydro Pumps missed completely; Anam’s Dragon Pulses grazed him once, but that was it. It seemed like they would be able to land normal attacks against him with luck, precision, and perfect execution—but otherwise, Owen’s half devised a way to avoid the strike in conjunction with Gahi’s evasion.

ADAM, thinking he was clever, fired a Hyper Beam right when Gawen dodged another strike—but he just used Protect to block it. ADAM screeched angrily, flailing in the air.

Valle had little that he could do in the air. Desperately, he made his second motion in centuries, and threw his own arm like a rocket at Owen; it exploded, and a few of the rocks grazed Gawen enough to slow him down.

Rhys and Manny went into action; they both fired Aura Spheres. Impossible to evade, the spheres tracked Owen down, destroyed only if they collided with one of the many aerial traps; however, with the two Lucario firing, the fusion couldn’t get close without risking a hit from the harder attackers of the team. At first, it seemed like a stalemate; yet as the battle progressed, it became clear that Gawen was at a disadvantage. Fatigue set in; moves became sloppy, and muscles responded less efficiently.

“He’s getting tired!” Amia said. “We should get close to—to stop him!”

“Workin’ on it!” Manny said. But the fusion refused to stop fighting; getting close would just get them both hurt. They had to find some other way….

Rhys looked at his paws—they were glowing a faint gold. “Ngh—” He suddenly stopped attacking.

“Eh?! Rhys? What’re yeh doin’?” Manny said. “I need yeh ter attack!”

“I—I can’t,” he said. “If I go any further, I’ll risk losing my power. It’s as I said—I Promised not to kill another Guardian!”

“W-wait! Then that means Owen and Gahi—”

She turned to get a closer look. She saw during the flurry something red dropping toward the sea; every beat Gawen made dropped a little bit more. Yet he kept fighting. “N-no…! E-everyone! We need to stop!”

“…We need to defeat him!” Zena announced. “Make sure that he hits the water!”

“Wh-what?” Amia said, spinning around, betrayed.

“Just do it—he won’t calm down otherwise! Make him hit the water!”

“Why would—”

“Do you think we have time to talk?!” Willow squeaked angrily.

“We have to stop—before he dies!” Amia said. “He’s bleeding! Any more and there won’t _be_ an Owen or Gahi to talk to!”

“If we stop, he’s gonna attack!” Manny said. “He’ll attack everyone! The whole town! Anybody—and he’ll be too fas’ ter catch up ter, too!”

“Hyper Beam at twenty five percent,” ADAM announced.

“W-wait! Not yet!” Amia said. “We can find another way!”

“We don’t have another way, Amia. Just trust me!” Zena said. “I think if we just shoot him down—”

Gawen dashed toward them but was beaten back by the shockwave of a neutralized Aura Sphere.

“But he’ll die in the water!” Amia said. “He’s still part Charizard, and—and if he becomes too weak, and he lands in water, he’ll—”

“Hyper Beam at fifty percent.”

Gawen roared. In a last stand, he powered through Manny’s barrage of small Aura Spheres and landed an Air Slash. The Lucario coughed and fell back into Anam, cushioned, but was unconscious. Anam’s paws were glowing black, yet with hesitance. Would he need to…?

Rhys winced. “Amia, we… have to. He won’t stop,” he said. He fired an aura sphere to keep Gawen slowed; his paws flashed dangerously. He couldn’t do another one of those.

“B-but…! But there has to be…!”

“Seventy five percent.”

“Wait—no! It’s—” Amia could find her words. Nevren’s remarks echoed in his mind. The first option was to keep resetting them, over and over. The second option, if they feared that a reset wouldn’t work, they would just keep them from evolving, and keep them from fusing together. But if even that didn’t work—and they lost themselves to the fusion, and there was no way to return them to a stable form….

Zena fired a Hydro Pump; Gawen dodged it but stumbled afterward. An opening.

“Fully charged.”

Amia stared at Owen and Gahi’s fused form with wide eyes, like she wanted to take every detail of them that she could. There was nothing she could do to stop it. She had a mind to fly forward and take the blast herself—but the time for that had passed.

ADAM fired. This time, Gawen was too tired to dodge; the Beam hit him directly, frying the scales on his front, splitting around his body to burn his sides. Smoke from his cooked body rose from his body in small streams. He fell—straight toward the ocean. Amia immediately dove down; Demitri and Mispy urged Zena to do the same, and she complied. Her slender form made it easy to catch up to Gawen; the closer they got to the water, the stronger a new presence felt, and the darker the water became. Amia didn’t notice it; she was too focused on her son. “Owen!” Amia shouted. “I’ve got you—M-Mispy! Mispy, please—heal him!”

He was still falling. The fall would kill him—Amia knew it. The water landing would be too harsh on his already broken body. He was seconds from hitting it. Amia accelerated to dangerous levels just to catch up; she got below Gawen and held her arms up, using her Mystic powers to slow his fall; Alex summoned himself and got ready to catch him. They could see Gawen’s face, burned as it was; for a second, Amia make eye contact with him. She tried desperately to see even a small iota of Owen left in them. And she saw something. “Owen—” Amia said.

Gawen let out a weak whimper.

Amia smiled and wheezed with a strange mixture of a laugh of relief and a cry of sorrow. “Owen, it’s okay! It’s _okay_!” They were falling fast, but it was slowing. Maybe he’d survive after all.

The water bulged outward beneath them. Something was rising from the surface—something big. A head, first, white in color with blue markings near the eyes. This was followed by a long, white neck and shoulders; everything else was submerged within the water, but Zena knew exactly what it was: a Lugia. She knew it.

“Emily!” Zena cried.

The Lugia had appeared for only a few seconds. From just above the surface, she looked at the falling fusion. That was the first instant. In the next, the Lugia opened her mouth; Amia had no time to react than to just widen her eyes. Willow screamed—they were too close. And in the final instant above the surface, the Lugia lunged forward with her mouth open.

Zena, Gawen, Amia, Willow, Demitri, and Mispy, in that final moment, were gone, taken by the Lugia to the depths of the sea.


	40. Body, Mind, and Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their fall into the ocean, Owen and Gahi are unconscious, even in the spirit world with Star and the Grass Spirits. Later, they awaken in the real world to learn about their new location.

The Grass Orb was silent.

Nobody dared move. The spirits couldn’t even speak—they could only stare, petrified, at what they thought would be the end of their cozy corner of the spirit world. He was laying there—Gahi and Owen, fused as a single being in mind, body, and, indeed, spirit. If they were fused even within this spiritual realm, then they were indeed a single being.

The only one moving was Star. The Mew floated over his body, inspecting every part of it. “They’re fused to the core,” Star mumbled to herself. “I don’t know if I can pull them apart without destroying everything we worked toward. It’d be from zero again….”

Gawen was unconscious. The battle itself was a strain on their body; the stress of the encounter on the mind; and the strain of their powers, on the spirit. To be passed out in even the spirit world meant that they had fought to the very limit—but to their fortune, that gave Star the opportunity to theorize on what she could do.

“What do you mean,” Klent finally said, “by fused to the core? From zero?”

“This happened before,” Star said, looking back. “When Demitri, Mispy, Gahi, and Owen all fused together for the first time, something went wrong. Nevren said they weren’t ready—or something just wasn’t calculated right. What do you expect? Four minds merging into one, seamlessly and without error? In your dreams. Even _I_ would need a few tries… and I’m Creator Mew!”

“So… something went wrong to make them go berserk?” Klent said.

“Yeah. And I’m trying to figure out why, now. It’s probably something really small that propagates throughout the system. Like an illness that spreads through the body. Ngh… The way Nevren solved it before was by _forcing_ them apart. But that’s like untying a knot by slicing it in half – you’re going to have damaged rope afterward. To do it _right_ … you need a way to untie them, and still have their minds intact afterward. Then, they don’t have to heal the broken pieces of their selves…”

“I think I follow…” Klent said. “But, how would you do it?”

“Everything about them has to do with their aura,” Star said. “Bodily fusions are easy to fix for me. It’s the mind and the aura that contains it that’s hard. It’s like trying to separate red and blue from purple…”

“Mm… or salt from the sea,” Klent said. “Something like that?”

“Kinda, but it’s equal parts salt and water,” Star said.

“Well… what if you had a way to attract out one part, but not the other?” Klent said. “If you make water evaporate, it’ll leave salt behind. Would there be a way to… get Owen out, and leave Gahi behind, or the other way around?”

“I don’t… really know. That’s one thing we could do… or try…”

Gawen opened his eyes.

“He’s awake,” Hecto reported.

“Nobody move,” Star said calmly.

Gawen stared at the sky. It was a moment of serenity. His eyes locked onto Star.

“Hey,” Star said. “…You feeling alright…?”

“He’s not moving…” Klent said.

“Oh, he’s trying,” Star said. “I have him immobilized with Psychic. He’s pretty weak, so it’s easy to keep him down, uh, gently.” She floated closer. “Gahi, Owen… it’s okay. Take a breath. Meditate, alright? Just a little…” Star waved a glowing paw near Gawen’s cheek. He let out a slow growl, and then a huff.

“Gahi, this is the Grass Orb—a part of the spirit realm. Can you see it, in Owen’s memories? It’s safe here. Nice and calm.”

“Can you reason with him?”

“I think so,” Star said. “It’s different… this isn’t like the last time. I think because it’s just two of them, and the meditation—you know, the stuff Rhys did—I think that’s making it easier. They aren’t totally broken this time. Maybe if we’re careful….”

There was another long, tense silence. Star was working on Gawen while he was still awake, prodding at his aura, searching for anything she could untangle. Every so often, she sighed, mumbling to herself. They weren’t sure what she meant for most of it. But eventually, she said something a bit more audibly. “This should help…”

A small spark of white energy pulsed through the fused creature. Star floated away and released her Psychic hold. A small shockwave warped the light around Gawen upon release. The forest spirits flinched. He was unsealed and free to move.

“Hey,” Star said. “On a scale of one to ten… how badly do you want to fight right now?”

The Flygon-Charizard amalgamation stared at Star, and then at all the others. He looked at the trees. “…Nine,” he said. “…Just ‘cause I know what… ten feels like.”

“S-Star…! How did you…?”

“Keep your voice down,” Star said serenely. “I couldn’t remove his instincts and I couldn’t tamper with his head at all…. But I was able to lower his stress levels and the mechanisms that contribute to being in battle mode all the time. I helped him feel less aggressive. Brain stuff. As Creator, you kinda have to know that sorta thing. But he could easily slip back into it, so no sudden movements.”

Gawen looked down shamefully. “I’m… I’m just a monster…” he said. “I’ve always been one. I’ve just been… sealed away. ‘Til now.”

“Pretty much,” Star said. “But you’re _my_ monster, okay?”

Gawen winced. “Y-yeah…”

“May I touch your shoulder?”

Gawen nodded.

Star gently floated toward him and did just as she had asked. It was a tiny paw compared to the dragon. “I can see my reflection,” Star said with a smile, looking at his scales. “The Gahi half of you really shines, huh?”

Gawen smiled slightly.

“…I’m really proud of how far you’ve come, Owen. Gahi. You never would have been this controlled in the past.”

“It’s so hard…”

“I know. I know. But it’s okay, and you’re doing it anyway. Just keep going, you two…”

“Two…” Gawen said. He rubbed at his head. “I… I don’t know… who I am…!” His claws dug into scales.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Star said in a whisper. “Let me help. Gahi… Gahi, is that name familiar to you?”

“Yeah… that’s… that’s me… that’s me, and also someone I know…”

“Mhm, that’s true. Part of you is Gahi. You were a Trapinch, and you always wanted to be the first one to evolve. Do you remember that?”

“I… I do. I was always jealous… because… because Owen…. He was always faster. And I hate… when people are faster. But… but Owen’s me, too… I didn’t know that Gahi was jealous… But I… but I liked me, too. Because we were family.”

Star nodded. She gently moved until she was sitting on their shoulder. “Owen, did you enjoy training with Gahi?”

“Yeah… I did. I liked training with me… with Gahi—Owen and Gahi, us, me…” He rubbed his forehead. “It… it hurts…”

“Shh, shh,” Star said. She didn’t give the fusion time to take it all in. The gentle onslaught continued uninterrupted. “Owen… Amia raised you all on her own. Do you remember that?”

Gawen was quiet. He looked like he had a splitting headache. His eyes were shut tight, creases forming along his muzzle. Scales ground against one another with every fold of skin. Star rubbed his shoulders.

“I… I remember,” he finally said.

“Gahi, did you miss Owen?” Star said.

“I… I did… missed ‘m a lot… missed ‘m all th’ time…”

“Gahi, do you remember how you coped? What did you do?”

“…Slept in his bed… th’ Rawst Leaves… they smell a way… Owen smelled like Rawst Leaves all th’ time, ‘cause he slept in it fer… I slept in them, and Gahi was always annoyed at how they smelled… But then I star’ed missin’ it, ‘cause ev’n if it was annoyin’…. I guess Gahi really liked it…” Gawen gulped, trying to hold down his nausea. “S-Star… m-my head… I… I can’t think about this.”

“It’s okay. Gahi, Owen, it’s okay. Keep thinking, okay?”

“It hurts…”

Star rubbed his shoulders more. “This is good, you two. Keep holding it through. You’ve got this. I’m going to keep going, and I’m not stopping. Owen, did Gahi ever win against you in chess?”

“Star… p-please, stop…”

“Gahi, did Owen ever beat you in a race?”

“Yer killin’ my head…!” He was clutching his head so tightly that his claws were piercing his scales.

“Owen, do you remember when you tried to sleep like Gahi, underground?”

“I hated it…!”

“Gahi, have you ever read a single paper in your life?”

“I totally read a few…! But Owen, he reads… e’rything he can…! I…” His grip wavered; his whole body had tensed, and then relaxed.

Star blinked. “…Owen? Gahi? Hello?”

Their eyes were closed, but gently. There were no crease marks of stress; his aura felt… more serene. The gashes in his skull vanished away.

Klent, confused that Star was confused, stepped forward. “S-Star?”

“Star,” Hecto said, “is this not part of the procedure?”

“It, uh, no,” Star said. “Owen? Gahi?”

The fusion went half-limp; Star had to really push to keep the creature from collapsing on top of her. “Ng—guys, c’mon…!”

“S-sorry…” Gawen said, shaking his head. He sat up, but he looked dizzy. “I… I feel better…” he said. “I’m… I’m Owen, right now. Gahi’s resting.”

“E-excuse me?” Star said. “That’s not—supposed to happen yet. Hello? Gahi?”

Owen was quiet, eyes closed. Gahi opened his eyes. “Yeah, what? I’m… feelin’ a li’l better.”

Gahi closed his eyes. The same body opened them again. “Star, I think… I think I’m feeling better. I think if we switch… it hurts less. I still… really… _really_ want to fight… but at least I know who I am.”

Closed, opened. “I never saw yeh fight befer, Star. So, what, yeh think yer any good? C’n you fight?”

“I—uh—I mean…”

“Star, perhaps your methods were simply more effective than expected,” Hecto said.

“No, I’m pretty sure they had to go through a few more steps before finding a way like this. But maybe Owen’s just—smarter and figured it out on his own.”

“N-no, I don’t think I did. Star, I think you helped me. Heh, yeah, I figure yer real good an’ jus’ didn’ think yeh could do it so easy. I—I mean, maybe that, because I didn’t get any ideas. It hurt a lot, so it was… y’know, was hard ter do th’ thinkin’, ‘specially when I was messin’ with Owen’s good thinkin’ parts.”

“Ugh, now _my_ head’s starting to hurt,” Star said. “Okay, new rule. Pause before you switch control so I’m not listening to one voice two ways.”

“O-oh, um…” A pause. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Another pause. “It came a little naturally…” Then, the fusion, with Owen in control, looked at his claws. “Actually, Star, um—I wanted to ask… a-and I don’t know if I want to know the answer, but… a-are… are we dead?”

“Uhh…” Star rubbed her ear. Her tail flicked anxiously, as if she wasn’t completely sure. The three flames on Gawen’s tail flickered anxiously. Then, Star nodded. “No, you’re alive. But that’s actually making me wonder something…” Star observed the fusion making strange motions, such as flicking his tail pensively on the ground, or pushing at a wall that wasn’t there. “…You okay there?”

“Everything feels… soft.”

“Uhh—”

“The air feels… soft. Does that make sense?”

“Not rea—”

The fusion vanished.

Klent blinked. “D…did they wake up?”

“Yeah. So at least they’re alive,” Star said.

“Will… what happened carry over to the real world?”

“Boy, I hope so. Let’s just watch and see.”

“Mm…” Klent nodded. He, along with the other spirits, closed their eyes to tune into what their host was experiencing.

 

At first, he thought he was back in Hot Spot Cave. Everything around them had a dim, cyan glow, just like the mushrooms, or the ethereal forest, or the aural sea. But everything felt too close—and too soft—to be the caverns. Owen tried to turn, but was met with great resistance from a soft, solid wall. He felt like he was in some sort of crawl space; there was light ahead of him, so he pulled himself out.

He heard the murmurs of a quiet conversation. “Ngh… ugh!” He was out and in an open area. “Finally!” he said. “Arceus, it felt like Anam in there….”

He turned around, realizing that this was a _very_ strange way to describe something, and inspected the wall. It looked like some sort of shiny, red wall with a cyan glow. He came from a crease in the wall, like dough that was folded over itself. He looked around; the whole place was like this.

And then he recalled his previous moments of being conscious. Amia staring at him, the ocean rapidly advancing—and that Lugia, and the great void of her maw.

“Oh… oh, no. Nooo, no, no,” he said, pacing. Every step he made was squishy against the ground. “N-no, _no_ , no, that’s not it,” he said. _Ab_ solutely not,” he finished. “I ain’t gonna accept that. Ain’t no way I got ate. Th-that just isn’t how it works—this is—this is just a strange dream! ‘Cause this ain’t how bodies work—I’d be dead! Long dead! Some sea monster woulda made me lunch by now! Ain’t no way that… maybe I jus’ escaped an’…”

Owen’s half realized that there was an easy way to determine where he was. With great apprehension, he extended his hyper awareness ability to the immediate area and beyond.

He was in the center of something large. It had a giant, central chamber, and six offshoots that, while not with chambers of their own, appeared to be moving. The one at the front of this chamber swiveled to the left and right subtly; the one in the rear twisted with the currents—he realized that this thing was underwater. And there were four more structures attached to the central chamber—two were shorter, and near the rear offshoot, and two were longer and beating hard against the water, propelling the entire structure forward. They were wing-like, yet also flipper-like.

It was a Lugia without anything inside. No heart. No lungs. No real organs of any kind. “I… oh, Arceus, I’m actually inside a Lugia.” He wanted to collapse, but didn’t want to know what the ground felt like. What his feet felt was enough. Realizing that he’d been sleeping in the fleshy insides of another creature, the fusion gagged and covered his mouth. “I’d rather be dead,” he finally said.

The murmuring returned. Gahi and Owen tried to gather themselves and tuned toward the sound. “…That’s… Zena,” he said. “And Willow, and… is that—Demitri and Mispy? That is!” Pushing aside the circumstances, Gawen rushed toward the only familiar sight he had. “H-hey, guys!”

“O-Owen? Er—Gahi? Both…?” Zena said.

Amia recognized the tone. “Owen! Y-you’re… you’re okay! Oh, thank Arceus, I—” She sniffled; it seemed like she had it together until she finally saw him awake and sane. She ran toward him and tripped over her own feet; the fusion caught her.

“H-hey, Mom, it’s—it’s alright,” Owen said, rubbing her back. He realized how tall he was, now—even larger than he was as a Charizard. “I think Star helped us in the spirit world.”

“Us—so Gahi’s still…?”

“Yeah, I’m still ‘ere,” Gahi nodded. “It kinda hurts our head ter fight fer control at th’ same time, but if we swap like this, it ain’t so bad, an’ if we merge our heads, it ain’t too bad, either. Still weird, though, eh, so we’ll try an’ keep it separate.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s interesting!” Amia said delicately. “But…”

“I think we can get better at being ‘as one’ too,” Owen said. “But…” He looked at his claws. “I’d like it if we were two bodies again. I like being close to Gahi, but—maybe not this close…” Gahi sighed. “Yeah, ain’t that somethin’ yeh’d expect outta Demitri an’ Mispy? But not us, I figure.”

Mispy huffed; Demitri rubbed at one of his tusks, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, that’s… quite odd to hear two kinds of people from the same voice,” Amia said. “It’s almost like when Eon mimicked my voice—oooh, I still get shivers from that…”

“Eon seems really familiar, but…” Demitri frowned. “He’s a lot less friendly than I thought he’d be.”

“Don’t remind me,” Owen said. “…Um… so… I really, _really_ don’t want to know… but I have to…. Where are we?”

“We’re being carried by an old friend of mine,” Zena said. “Her name is Emily—she’s a Lugia. I… I didn’t think she’d still be alive, but… this is definitely her. I remember it all now.”

Gawen crossed his arms incredulously. “Your friend?” he said. “She… eats people.”

“Well, it’s not eating if you aren’t _food_ , don’t you think?” Zena suggested.

“No, this is pretty strongly like eating,” Owen said, eying the walls suspiciously. “How does this even work? My awareness is telling me Emily doesn’t have _anything_ going on inside her. I don’t even know if she has blood. It’s like a Drifblim shaped itself into a Lugia.”

“I don’t know, either,” Zena said. “But she has a certain power about her. Can’t you feel it?”

“Yeah, but—it’s subtle. I felt it when I was—nghk… when I was lodged somewhere in the walls. Up against it I definitely felt something strong, but now that I’m just standing here? Not really… But her aura is strong. I can’t see anything outside.”

Owen scanned the group again and noticed somebody hiding behind Zena’s tail. “Um? Who’s that?”

“Eep—!”

“Oh,” Zena lifted her tail, revealing—nothing. “That was Tanneth. She lives, er… with Emily. She’s a Vaporeon, but I think she’s still a little nervous about you, Owen, Gahi.”

“She is? How come?” Owen asked.

“It’s okay, Tanneth,” Amia said. “This one’s friendly. A friend of ours, Star, must have helped them in the spirit world!”

“A-are you sure?” someone said beneath Mispy.

Owen and Gahi got a good look at Tanneth; it was indeed a Vaporeon, though she seemed to be partway inside the floor. It reminded Owen of Anam, once again.

“Actually, um, Emily was the one who helped you,” Tanneth said. “She said that she felt your aura was in a lot of pain, so she healed you with a lot of her power.”

“My aura was in… pain?” Gawen said. “Like… how? Y’mean like, I was ripping apart?”

Tanneth nodded. “Emily doesn’t like when Pokémon are hurt, but she can only heal others if they’re very, very close to her body. But she can heal anything!”

“Anything…” Owen said. “But—but what if I went crazy? I’d’ve really hurt Emily, all the way in here!”

Tanneth shook her head. “Emily can’t get hurt. She’s really, really strong! …Defensively!”

“Defensively? So, she can’t attack? But Lugia are supposed to be really strong—they know Aeroblast! That could rip anything to shreds!”

“Emily…. Now that I think about it, I don’t think she ever was that powerful,” Zena said. “She should be strong, but her Aeroblast… I think the worst it ever did was make little whirlpools for us to play in.” She looked up. “But maybe when she gets back to wherever her home is, we can talk more.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Owen said. “But… while we’re waiting, I… want to try something. Can you guys give me a little bit? I want to de-fuse…”

“O-oh! You… can do that?”

“I think so,” Owen said. “We better,” Gahi said. “We’ll try,” Gawen said.

Reluctantly, Gawen sat down to meditate. Demitri and Mispy crept closer to get a better look at their sparring partner. “Wow…. So that’s what it’s like to fuse together… And you’re sane, too! Who would’ve thought that a little healing energy would’ve helped, huh?”

“Star was helping, too,” Gawen said. “I think it was the healing that made it feel better, but… Star was the one that helped us separate. We’re just doing the last part.”

Mispy inspected the flame at the end of Gawen’s tail—the three blade-like spires of fire, akin to a Flygon’s fan. “What if you… went Grass Type?” Mispy theorized.

Owen’s half was intensely curious and distracted by the remark; Gahi’s half was just annoyed that they couldn’t concentrate in peace. The two conflicting thoughts was too much for the fusion and, in an instant, one head split off from the main one, turning irritably, “Oy, I’m trin’ ter concentrate!”

“W-wah! T-two heads!” Tanneth squeaked.

“Eh?” Gahi looked down. He could move the right arm, but not the left. “Oy, lookit that!”

“G-Gahi! I can’t feel my right side!”

“Well I can’t feel m’ left! C’mon, let’s jus’ keep goin’!”

“Um—” Mispy, in an effort to help, wrapped her vines around their arms and pulled; thankfully, this was the correct approach, and with a little tug and some concentration, the dragon and the pseudodragon split into their former selves. They tumbled to the ground with a series of plops and damp splashes.

“Ugh! Finally!” Owen said. He shook himself off and tried to ignore the empty feeling in his stomach now that he was separated. “Glad to be myself again. No offense or anything, Gahi, but I think you dumbed me down a few pegs…”

“Feh,” Gahi stuck his nose in the air. “…Hey, I ain’t crazy!” he said, looking at his claws. “How ‘bout that, eh?”

“I think we’re going to go a little crazy when we evolve,” Demitri said, looking at Mispy worriedly. “Um—when that happens, do you think you’ll be able to…?”

“We’ll help,” Owen said. “We just have to beat you and then, um… help you straighten out after that. Maybe Emily can help!”

Just then, the ground shifted. “E-earthquake?” Owen said. “W-wait, we’re not on—”

The ground heaved; they were thrown to the walls, the entire area turning by ninety degrees. Owen and Gahi hit the new ‘ground’ first; Amia and Willow landed on top of Owen, followed by Demitri and Mispy atop Gahi, and lastly Zena, whose lengthy body pinned them all down. They all groaned; Tanneth giggled, “Hey, everyone! Emily’s gonna let you guys out, now!”

“ _Please_ tell me she has a better way than to—”

A giant wing-arm burst through the walls of the Lugia, presumably through her belly, fishing around her own insides like one would search for a snack in the dark. The wing was big enough to grab them all in one go; without thinking, Owen squealed, and they were pulled back to the outside world.


	41. The Enigmatic Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a lucky break, the group with Owen and Gahi take some time to recover and regroup with the others. They have a serious advantage, now, but can they keep it controlled?

Manny crossed his arms with doubt. “Yer gonna have ter explain that one a second time, Rhys,” he said. “Run that by me again—they all got ate, but they’re _jus’ fine_?”

“Y-yes, I promise, they are perfectly safe. More than safe; if anything, they might be getting healed right now.”

Anam felt someone knocking on his spiritual doors. He held his hand out and Star emerged.

“It’s true,” she said. “That was Emily. She’s a wonderful Pokémon, but—well, I don’t know if any of you are going to remember her in a little while. Y’see… well…” Star hesitated. “Actually… I’m a little surprised you’re remembering her at all. Maybe because you guys are all together, it’s starting to…” The Mew trailed off. “…Guys. Do you remember seeing the Lugia at all?”

“Wh—o’ course! It only took up like half our field view!” Manny said.

“Huh…” Star said. “Well… I guess we’ll see how much I can explain, then. See… Lugia Emily… ahh… she’s really kind. So kind that Arceus gifted her a tiny, tiny portion of divine energy—enough to make her a true legend, but not enough to expand that influence beyond her body. She had it on the condition that she’d only be able to use that power to help others—and so, she trained to become the ultimate healer.”

“The healer that… eats people,” Anam said, nibbling his paw. “Does it hurt?”

“If you ask me, it’s pretty cozy,” Star crossed her arms. “And it’s pretty spacious in there, too. Emily’s basically a dense balloon filled with air. Dense enough to still dive underwater, but with all that air in the middle, it’s really easy to live in. Her aura is strongest within her, so… anything that’s inside of her basically can’t get hurt.”

“It’s also quite difficult to escape,” Rhys muttered.

“Oh, yeah!” Star giggled. “Back when you were a real Hunter going after divine energy, Emily was one of your targets!” the Mew laughed, shoving Rhys by the shoulder. “She ate you and refused to let you go unless you promised not to fight her!”

“I’m surprised she didn’t force me to make a Divine Promise,” Rhys crossed her arms. “But I suppose we did… _chat_ for a while. Her and that Vaporeon within her….”

“You mean, even your ultimate moves didn’t work on Emily?” Anam said. “Would… would mine?”

“Maybe?” Star said. “I dunno. I mean, Ghost has an advantage over her type, but Em’s pretty exceptional. But I don’t think she’d beat _you_ in a fight, either. Like I said—she’s an ultimate healer. Her attack power is… zero, more or less? Or close to it. Maybe if she _rolled_ on you it’d do some damage, but…”

“I’d rather not envision this,” Rhys said.

“So, they’re definitely okay,” Anam said.

“Yeah,” Star said. “I promise—if they’re in Emily’s guts, they’re as safe as you can get.”

“Quite counterintuitive,” James said.

“Hrm.” Rhys didn’t like the situation, but he couldn’t deny that Owen and the others, for now, would be in good hands. He focused his attention ahead, toward the expanse of ocean.

“Where are we going?” Anam asked.

“We’re following Emily back to her home base,” Star said. “With any luck, we’ll be able to find her pretty easily. She’s on the other side of the world, so she’s equidistant from all parts of the shoreline. Makes it useful to go to anywhere she can sense trouble. It shouldn’t be long from now. It’s a tiny island that gets flooded pretty often, but it should be okay for now.”

“Water is not still,” Valle said.

“Oh, get over it, you already broke your own vow when Enet made you move your arms.”

Valle rumbled angrily.

 

“Solid ground! Thank Arceus!” Owen had half a mind to kiss it after all that time spent in the flesh of another creature, but he kept himself calm. “Wait—where are we?”

“This is my home!”

The sheer sound of the voice shook Owen’s chest; he worried that his heart would stop. He briefly wondered if he and Gahi, when they had fused, had two hearts. “W-wow, Emily, you’re… big!”

Her voice was deep and booming, but it fit for someone of her stature. He felt the innocent kindness it had, though, just like their Association Head. Perhaps _that_ was why Zena was reminded of her through Anam.

Still, he couldn’t get over the fact that there was a gaping hole in her belly where she had pulled them out. “Emily, are—you okay?”

“Okay about what?” Emily asked.

“Um, Emily, dear,” Amia said, pointing at where her ribcage would have been, “Is it normal for you to… just have that wound?” She didn’t have any bones or blood; in fact, it seemed like the red flesh was just for show.

“Oh, oops!” Emily said, bringing her wing-arms to her chest. She rubbed at it and the hole closed up, like she was shaping clay to patch a wet sculpture. “Sorry! I need to remember to keep that in one piece or Pokémon freak out…”

“That doesn’t—hurt?”

“Hurt?” Emily asked, but then something moved up her neck and into her mouth.

The Vaporeon, Tanneth, hopped out and onto the ground. “Emily doesn’t feel a lot of things that she should,” she said. “She doesn’t need to eat, or sleep, or… any of that! I dunno why. She’s always been that way. Maybe she’s a deity.”

Emily giggled, rubbing the back of her head. “I dunno about _that_ ….”

“It’s… certainly nothing like other Lugia that I’ve heard of,” Amia said. “Oh, wait, but _are_ there other Lugia?”

“There should be,” Owen said. “Pretty sure I saw one flying way away in the air once, when I was a Charmander.”

“Which time?” Gahi quipped.

Owen jabbed Gahi with his elbow. “But Em’s definitely not a normal Lugia. But… is she a Guardian?”

“A what?” Emily asked. “Yeah, I’m totally a Guardian! I keep the whole ocean safe!”

“So, the Guardian of…” Zena paused. “The former Guardian of Water?”

“Huh? I mean, I don’t guard _all_ water…” Emily frowned. “I mostly just keep the ocean safer. Not rivers and stuff… Just oceans. But I can try to cover the land, but that’s a lot of land… and I’m slower on land, so it’s harder to help Pokémon in time…”

“…I think we’re working with two different definitions of Guardian,” Owen said.

Amia nodded. “Um, Emily, do you know what the spirit world is?”

“Spirit… world?” Emily asked. “Like, where Ghost Pokémon go?”

“…I don’t think she’s a Guardian,” Zena said. “She’s just… a normal guardian. Er, a non-Orb… protector… of sorts.”

“Hmm…” Owen hummed. Something wasn’t adding up. But he didn’t have any extra information to work with yet, so he settled with what he had.

“I guess we should take some time to recover,” he said. “Do we have a communicator with us?” The Charizard sat down against the cave wall; the ground had soft bedding to it. Emily must have taken the time to make it, somehow, or find it some other way—it was very cozy. The cold pit in his stomach suggested that this bedding could easily be more of Emily’s flesh fashioned into a soft cushion, but he avoided using his Awareness to find out for sure. Some things were best left unknown.

This sentiment lasted for five seconds. Owen checked, and indeed, it seemed to be more of Emily. He elected to not inform the others and festered in his own disgust in silence.

“We do,” Amia said, pulling out her communicator. “But it didn’t work inside of Emily—maybe now it will?”

“Doesn’t work inside Emily? That’s weird. Maybe it’s aura-based,” Tanneth said. “Or some other kind of magic. A lot of stuff gets blocked off by Emily… You can’t even use Teleport to get in or out of her.”

“Oh, goodness, that’s… How do you know that?” Amia said.

“Someone tried to use Teleport once,” Tanneth said. “I don’t remember who, though. I think it was an Alakazam…”

“You don’t say,” Owen said. He sat down, curling his tail around his hips and legs. He finally had time to decompress someplace that wasn’t from his nightmares, aside from the bedding. And in that moment of silence with just his thoughts, it finally occurred to him—this was the first time in centuries that he was _himself_ , fully. He fused, and he survived it; he knew what he was capable of, and all his power. And when he was fused with Gahi, when he finally regained his sanity in that state….

“Heh…” Gahi said, leaning back. “I guess I c’n deal with second place.”

“H-huh?” Owen came out of his thoughts. “What? Were you guys talking?”

“Yeah, we were just talking about how you won the race to evolve first,” Demitri said. “And Gahi’s second. So now it’s just between the two of us.”

“Oh, you guys are racing to evolve? That’s so cool!” Emily said. “I wish I evolved…”

“You… don’t need to get any bigger,” Owen said.

“I forget being an Eevee!” Tanneth said cheerfully. “It was too long ago. Maybe I was always a Vaporeon!”

“Doubt that one, too,” Owen said. “But, uh—about that… Demitri, Mispy, are you guys sure you’re ready to evolve? Gahi went crazy. And when we fused, we both went totally nuts. It took a near-death experience to get us out of—oh, I wonder if my Mysticism is stronger from that…”

“What’s that, dear?” Amia asked.

“Uh—nothing. Anyway, what I mean is, if you evolve, you might get hurt if we don’t keep it totally safe. Because what if, you know….”

“Safe?” Emily said. “Well… if they want to evolve, why don’t they just do it in me?”

Owen wished his awareness extended to the future; that way, he would’ve seen the trap he’d put himself in. “B-back… in you?”

“Yeah! If you need a place where you can’t get hurt, then I’m definitely that!”

“I’ve never quite seen someone describe themselves as a _place_ before, Emily.” Zena chuckled. “I don’t think you were quite this large when I knew you before!”

Emily giggled. “I missed you, Zena!” she said. “I wondered what happened to you! I can’t believe I forgot!”

“I feel the same way,” Zena said. “It’s so odd, isn’t it? But—that’s not important right now. Let’s talk about them evolving. Demitri, you have Hyper Strength, right?”

“Yeah, I think,” Demitri said. “I know that it’s really hard to stop my attacks…. With anything. I think I even break through Protect a little. But I’m pretty slow.”

Mispy nodded. “And I’m…”

“Hyper Defense,” Owen said. “And that includes healing. And there’s also that technique Rhys taught you about passively charging your Solarbeam… It takes twice as long, but you can do other attacks in between. I dunno if normal Pokémon can do stuff like that. Imagine combining you two…”

“Imagine combining all four of you,” Amia said gravely. “An unstoppable, self-healing, agile, and totally aware creature….”

Owen winced slightly; something between a bruise and a sharp headache knocked at part of his head. “I think… that’s something Star warned me not to think about,” he said. “I still can’t believe Eon did that… We could’ve been killed! Why would he unleash us like that? I definitely don’t think he intended to _help_ us…!”

“Yeah, he seemed like a real jerk,” Gahi said. “Hmph. Well, I’ll show him. I’m gonna be stronger’n ever, an’ I’ll be normal in th’ head when I do it! Think he’s gonna make me fer a crazy thing…”

“Yeah,” Owen laughed. “And we’ll make sure that Demitri and Mispy can evolve and stay sane, too. Um… so, Emily, you mentioned that…?”

“Yeah!” She slammed her wing on her belly—the shockwave alone startled Amia, who had been inspecting a mossy rock. “If you guys train and evolve in my body, you’ll be as safe as possible!”

“Hmm… Well… okay. What do you guys think? Do you want to… ugh… I mean….”

“I’m fine with it,” Demitri said. “Mispy?”

The Bayleef nodded. “We can go all-out?”

“Totally!” Emily said.

Owen felt the presence of someone else—no, quite a few others. “Oh,” he said. “I think the others caught up to us.”

“Others? Oh! Your friends?” Emily asked.

“You mean Rhys and Anam and everyone?” Demitri asked.

“Oh, good! We’ll all meet up so we can—um—regroup?” Amia stepped past Emily and looked outside. There was an ocean all around them with no land in sight. The island only had this giant cave in a small mountain, some sand along the perimeter, and that was it.

“Rhys! Anam! We’re over here!” The Gardevoir waved them over.

“Ngg—so it really is her…!” Rhys hissed.

Emily waved a huge arm at them. “Hey! Everyone! Over here!”

“I really don’t think you need to wave to get their attention,” Owen mumbled.

Rhys landed gingerly and looked down, hands to his sides in respect. He bowed. “Hello, Lugia Emily,” he said.

“Hi!”

“I am Lucario Rhys. I hope… that our past encounter doesn’t leave any sour feelings.”

“…Huh?” Emily asked, tilting her massive head. “What do you mean?” She reached down; Rhys flinched, tensing, but didn’t move otherwise. Her massive wing-arm wrapped around Rhys and brought him up as if he was an Oran Berry. She brought her other wing forward and held it level, setting him on the flat of it. She leaned forward and stared, squinting. “…I met a lot of Lucario… but you _do_ look familiar… Do you taste the same?”

“I’d—No, thank you, I’m, I—there’s no need for that. I was the one who… attempted to strike you down, long ago, to take your power.”

“Uhh—Rhys?” Owen said. “Emily isn’t a Guardian. Were you trying to harvest her power just because she had a lot of it? How do you even… harvest that sort of power?”

“It’s… difficult to explain,” Rhys said. “I can’t explain it, without you all forgetting again. You see, Emily isn’t just powerful for no reason, she’s . . .”

“…She’s what, dear?” Amia said.

Rhys grumbled. “I _just_ said, she’s . . .”

Amia looked at the others; they all shrugged.

Rhys ran his claws through the fur of his head. “There is something about Emily that, if I say it, you will forget. It’s as if I didn’t say it at all. It’s because Arceus has made it so—a divine decree that no normal person can remember. I only remember because I’m a direct descendent of Star. I’m immune to the effects. You all… are less so. Your Mystic power isn’t potent enough to resist the decree, so you forget.”

“Wait, so does that mean Nevren also remembers who Emily is?” Owen said.

“Yes,” Rhys said.

“And if we become strong enough, we’ll be able to remember what you told us?” Owen asked. “Hmm…”

“If your divine energy is strong enough to resist Arceus’ decree, then yes,” Rhys said. “It wasn’t a particularly strong one. Perhaps with some help from Star, you’ll remember, too. But as of now? I doubt it.”

“Try again,” Owen said, staring up at Rhys. “Say it again! Who is Emily?”

Calm waves washed over the sand.

“…You… you said something, didn’t you?” Owen asked.

“I did,” Rhys sighed.

“Guess now isn’t the time,” Star shrugged.

Emily giggled. “You’re silly! You just stood there!” she said. “Can I pet you?”

It seemed that Emily didn’t remember, either, Owen noticed. So while Emily’s power was strong, perhaps her divinity for resisting Arceus was not.

“Y-you… I would prefer if you did not,” Rhys said, looking away.

“Aww…” Emily sadly set the Lucario down.

“You must be super important, Mister Rhys!” Tanneth said. “I bet you’re a super strong hero, just like Emily!”

Rhys glanced down. “…I have to disagree,” he said.

“Huh? How come?” Emily said. “You seem like a nice Pokémon!”

“Hmm…” Owen said. “We probably have to become really strong,” he said. “How strong do you think? Do we have to… be stronger than Arceus himself?”

“No, not necessarily. Only a small fraction of his power would be needed to override it,” Rhys said. “This is especially true for those aligned with Star.”

“…Oh,” Owen said.

“Ohh, that’s right,” Amia said, tapping her ill-defined chin. “Owen, you never aligned with Star _or_ Arceus. You’re… your own alliance right now, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call it an _alliance_ ,” Owen said. “I just want to keep my options open. Maybe it’s just my instincts.”

“What?” Demitri said. “You mean you just… don’t want to align with anybody yet?”

“I feel like I don’t know the full story,” Owen said. “Who makes decisions without as much information as they can get?”

“I mean, figure what I see’s enough,” Gahi shrugged. “Eh. But yer real thorough. I’ll trust ya. I ain’t gonna align with either o’ ‘em, then, if yer gonna do th’ same.”

Demitri and Mispy exchanged looks, but then nodded at Owen.

“You know best,” Mispy said.

“A-aw, gee, guys…” Owen blushed.

“…Oh, no!” Emily said, straightening. “I have to go! A Pokémon is in trouble.”

Tanneth hopped onto Emily’s shoulder and burrowed into it, melting away.

“Umm—can I come back later?”

“We should probably get going, too,” Rhys said. “Perhaps another time. Er… Would you mind if we set a Waypoint to this cave, so we can visit later without the travel time? It’s all the way across the world, after all….”

“Oh! Sure! That sounds cool,” Emily said.

“Perfect. I will set up—you can rescue that Pokémon, now.”

“Okay. See you!” Emily didn’t hesitate and jumped into the ocean, creating a wave that washed all the way into the caves. Owen grumbled and raised his tail so his flames didn’t get doused by the sea.

“She seemed nice,” Demitri said. “Weird, but nice.”

Everybody agreed.


	42. Correct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gahi ponders about his current state, and what had happened earlier in the morning. Meanwhile, Demitri and Mispy train to evolve for what they hope to be the final time.

“Sooo, can we evolve now?” Demitri asked. Mispy listened, but spent her time prodding at one of the Hot Spot Mushrooms to feign a lack of interest.

“Not until we’re sure we can get you in a safe environment,” Rhys said.

“Aw, c’mon! I mean—if something bad happens, you can just warp us to Emily’s place, right? It’s not like we can fly like those two!”

“Well… that much is true…” Rhys considered their reasoning but knew to think cautiously. After all, they were strongly biased toward recovering their true forms and memories.

“And we’re _way_ better at meditating, compared to Gahi,” Demitri said. “So, since we’re all behaved and all that, that means we’ll stay sane easier, right?”

“Oy, that ain’t my fault, Eon made me nuts!”

“It’s likely a bit of both, Gahi,” Rhys said. “Hmm… but I suppose if we have enough containment procedures in place, we should be able to evolve you without waiting for another opportunity where Emily is available. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great!” Demitri said.

“How does that sound to _everyone else_?” Rhys said.

“…We’ll have to make sure they can’t escape,” Owen said. “And that if we get in trouble, we can warp them right to Emily’s place. But since we sorta… warped to the Chasm place, and then again to get out of it, I think the Badge is depleted for now. And—oh! The Dark Guardian! Is he—?”

“I don’t think we should go there for now,” Rhys said. “If we return now, he might feel threatened, after how Eon behaved. We should wait at least a day. Until then… Why don’t we have some breakfast? A… late… very late breakfast.”

Demitri and Mispy’s stomachs suddenly growled. “W-wow, that’s right—we totally forgot to eat…” Demitri said.

“Food…” Mispy mumbled.

Amia giggled. “Rhys, dear, why don’t we make something special for them?”

“That will give the Badges time to recharge,” Rhys agreed. “Very well. We will make something energizing. That will give me some time to prepare my training for them…. I think we will be able to unlock their potential quickly.”

“Ooh—is it a secret technique? How come you never showed it to us before?” Demitri asked.

“Is it dangerous?” Mispy asked.

“No, not necessarily,” Rhys said. “I simply… cannot use it very often. But for this case, I think it will be worth our time. I can prepare while I am cooking with Amia.”

“Oh!” Anam perked up. “Um—well, while you guys are doing that, is it okay if I go back to Kilo Village to do some checking up?” Anam asked.

“Oh, of course, dear!” Amia said. “Going to help out Nevren?”

“Mhm!”

“Be careful,” Owen said. “I still… don’t feel right about the guy.”

“It’s okay,” Anam said. “I’ll be careful!”

 

It was only the afternoon, but Owen was desperate for a nap. Breakfast—at this point, lunch—was still cooking, so Owen took the opportunity to retreat to his room. He didn’t expect Gahi to follow. The Flygon was hanging around many paces behind him, leaning against walls or otherwise prodding at mushrooms with his feet, similar to Mispy. They glowed to the touch.

“…Gahi?” Owen asked.

“Eh—hey.” He didn’t expect Owen to acknowledge him.

“…You tired?”

“…A li’l.”

The Flygon stood awkwardly by the entrance to his room. Owen, not sure where to go, sat by his bed and left half of it for him to sit on. He noticed that it was bigger than when he had first left it; did Amia take the time to gather more Rawst leaves for his new body?

Gahi sat next to Owen and curled his tail around just himself. He played with the fan at the tip of his tail, tracing the angular decorations.

Owen glanced at Gahi only once, but he spared him any intense stares. But he could feel it; Gahi was trembling. But he had too much pride to admit it.

“…That was… scary, huh?” Owen said.

Gahi gulped and nodded. He didn’t break eye contact with his tail. “Yeah.”

Owen reached for a Rawst leaf and grabbed one; it was still soft. “I should probably get a cover for these to wrap them up. Lasts longer.”

“Not like sand,” Gahi said. “Stuff lasts forever.”

“Heh… yeah.” Owen shifted where he sat.

Gahi scooted himself forward and leaned forward. He laid down and rolled over until his belly faced the ceiling. “I jus’…” Gahi said. “I feel like…”

Owen followed suit, laying down next to him until they were both staring at the ceiling. “Like you weren’t in control?”

“Tch… yeah.”

“Yeah…”

“…I’m beat,” Gahi said, rolling until he was on his side, facing Owen; he closed his eyes. “I’m jus’… gonna go fer an afternoon nap.”

Owen nodded. “That’s fine,” he said. “I guess my bed is softer than the sand you’re used to and stuff.” The Charizard pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’m gonna—”

“C’n you…” Gahi said quickly; one eye opened.

Owen stopped.

“C’n you… jus’ stick around, a li’l while…?”

The Charizard’s gaze softened further. “Sure, Gahi. I’ll be right here,” he said. He laid back down, staring at the ceiling again. His eyes focused on a small clutch of mushrooms in the corner. He always liked staring at that patch. He’d feel out of place if those ever fell; he’d need to find a new patch to call his favorite.

“Am I me?” Gahi asked.

Owen glanced at the Flygon. Both of the shiny dragon’s eyes were open, staring at nothing in particular, just straight ahead.

“…Feels like… I’m goin’ through what you were goin’ through…” Gahi said. “When y’ were all…”

“The way you are now,” Owen said, “is who you are. Back there… That wasn’t you. That was just… something Nevren wanted you to be.”

Gahi didn’t react much. He just kept staring. Owen glanced at him every so often out of the corner of his eye, but Gahi didn’t even notice. Owen wondered what it was like to have such little awareness. Even when he was tired, he knew where everything around him was. Gahi must have been truly preoccupied with his crisis…

“I think you’re you, right now,” Owen said again.

“I couldn’ stop it… I jus’… wan’ed ter do it… ter fuse… so badly. I wan’ed ter fight… jus’… jus’ fight… wasn’ the same… was like I’d die if I didn’ fight… Knew I wouldn’… but I had t’ fight…”

“I was the same way,” Owen said. “I remember what happened when I fought Azu the first time. I was the same way—I just went… crazy. I kept attacking, even when he was becoming an ember. And then I tried to attack his ember. Then I started to attack Mom… but I stopped really fast there… I remember that part. I remember stopping…”

“That’s pro’ly ‘cause yer Mystic. But I’m jus’… normal. If I go crazy again… I ain’t gonna stop it with that li’l… li’l privilege yeh got.”

“I don’t think you’ll go crazy again,” Owen said. “Not on your own. Your aura’s better now. It’s fixed.”

Gahi didn’t say anything, and the silence filled the air again.

Owen sighed. He could feel Gahi’s anxiety. He didn’t know how he could help. He went through the same thing—and in the end, Gahi was right. If he _did_ lose himself again… he _wouldn’t_ be able to stop it. That was part of his design.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna live like this,” Gahi said. “I j-jus’ don’t… don’ like any o’ this…!” His voice was trembling.

“Gahi…”

The Flygon sniffled and buried his head against the leaves. “It’s gonna happen. I’m gonna lose it… I’m not gonna be _me_ … This _isn’t_ me! I ain’t this! I’m—I’m jus’ some kinda— _thing_! A weapon!” Gahi gripped his claws on the bed. “I ain’t got a will—I’m jus’ some weapon! All I wan’ed was ter fight! That’s all I am… jus’ like he wan’ed…. Jus’… jus’…!”

Owen moved toward Gahi and wrapped his arms around him, and then his wings. Gahi sniffled and shook, reflexively leaning against Owen. “It’s okay, Gahi,” Owen said. “You’re okay. You’re fine now, right?”

Gahi sniffed and nodded.

“You’re sane. And that’s all that matters. If you got to this state once, you can do it again. But losing your mind again…. I won’t let that happen, okay? I’m the smart guy, right? I’ll figure it out.”

“Y-you better…” Gahi said.

“I will,” Owen nodded.

Gahi coughed, then sniffed, and then wiped his nostrils. “Ngg…”

Owen was ready to let go, but Gahi didn’t let him. He complied, gently rubbing at the Flygon’s back. “You’re alright, Gahi,” he said. “I think between me and the others, we’ve got it all under control.”

“Mn…”

Owen had to agree—he was tired, too. His eyes were heavy; after a few minutes of silence, Owen’s eyes were closed. Gahi had drifted off long before that.

Some time later, Amia quietly stepped into the room in a whisper, “Owen, Gahi, are you ready for—” But she saw neither of them in bed. Instead, there was a single being, curled up with a peaceful smile. The Gardevoir mirrored the smile and closed her eyes, stepping back. Amia exited without waking them.

 

“They’re sleeping for now,” Amia said. “I think they’re tuckered out from the, um… everything that happened. Um, Rhys—is it safe if they’re fused?”

“They fused again?” Demitri said.

Mispy closed her eyes to scan for their auras. “Mmm… Mhm.” The Bayleef nodded. “But… stable.”

“Yes, I sense it as well,” Rhys said. “They’re fused together, but their auras are stable. We needn’t worry.”

“Oh, good,” Amia said. “They had the cutest little smile! I figured they were fine, but I wanted to make sure.”

“Well, in any case, we should get to training,” Rhys said. “Demitri, Mispy, I hope you didn’t eat too much. I’m prepared for your training session.”

“Are you sure…?” Mispy asked. “Your aura…”

“Yes, dear,” Amia said. “Why is your aura so…?”

“I have been… building it up. I’m not very used to it, so it may seem a bit… volatile. But, please—allow me to start. Give me a moment.”

Rhys closed his eyes and focused. His aura flared even more, and then concentrated at his paws. He put them together, like he was forming a giant Aura Sphere, and then aimed it at the ground just in front of him. His entire body glowed with aural power, and then, finally, he fired—it was a continuous blast of aural energy that piled up in front of him, taking the shape of something. Rhys grunted; he stopped firing and staggered backwards.

“Rhys—?” Amia asked.

“I—I am fine,” Rhys said. “I was… a bit reckless. But I am fine. Give it a moment….”

The aural mass finished shaping itself.

“Whoa…” Demitri said.

“That’s cool…!” Mispy added.

It looked just like Rhys in shape and size, but was cyan like the Aura Spheres he attacked with, as well as slightly transparent.

Rhys wobbled his way to the side of the arena and sat down to stay conscious. “There… Now, you may fight,” he said.

“Fight… this thing?”

The aura entered a battle stance, awaiting the first move. It seemed to behave on its own, in some autonomous fashion.

“How will that help?” Demitri said. “And why’d you go through all that trouble? I wanna fight the real thing!”

“This will be significantly faster, if we wish to evolve you as soon as possible,” Rhys said. He didn’t speak again for ten seconds, catching his breath. “The… hah… the aura you see there,” he continued, “is based on my theories on a Pokémon’s power, and their aural efficiency—their power and the channel that connects them to that divine energy. The more training you do, the more fine-tuned your aura becomes, and therefore, the more enhanced your attacks and abilities are, and the easier you can resist the attacks of others. What you see before you is that aural power, that essence that strengthens your connection to that energy, manifested and given form.

“It takes more and more energy to reach greater amounts of power. Diminishing returns for the same amount of effort and aural connectivity. However, conversely, it takes relatively little energy to go from a low aural efficiency to that of a higher one. Since you are suppressed… this will be an easy way to unleash your powers again, safely.”

“…Mm… I think I understand,” Amia said. “But, for the people who don’t… could you explain that more simply, dear?”

“Yeah!” Willow said. “That was too many words! Say it again! But easy!”

Rhys sighed. “I sacrificed the very topmost portion of my power—which required a great amount of energy to achieve—in order to grant it to Demitri and Mispy, whose connections to that divine energy is weaker. It will force that connection to widen, and will therefore allow them to evolve, should they…” Rhys panted, “should they defeat it.”

“Okay, dear. You rest,” Amia said. “Demitri, Mispy! Do you understand that?”

They both stared.

Demitri spoke, “So we… beat it up?”

“Yes,” Amia said.

Mispy shrugged. “Makes sense. Easy.”

Rhys snorted a laugh. “Are you sure?” he said. “I wouldn’t underestimate my aural automaton.”

“Oh, yeah?” Demitri said. “I’d like to see you—uh, it try.”

Rhys shrugged weakly. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Go!” Demitri said. He rushed at the aura as quickly as he could—in other words, at a speed that Rhys could outpace by walking. Mispy sighed, shaking her head; she took the free moment to charge her Solarbeam a quarter way while setting up a Light Screen simultaneously.

Rhys’ aural clone fired an Aura Sphere directly at Demitri; he took the hit and kept going, closer until he was able to land the first hit, a Brick Break, hoping that this aura was still Fighting-Steel like the source material.

The aura _sizzled_ at the attack, jumping away. It looked blurry for two seconds, and then solidified; Demitri looked at his claws. “Did—did you feel that?” he said. “That was… strong! I wanna do that again!”

“Keep going!” Mispy shouted, halfway charged. She used a Heal Pulse to repair the damage Demitri sustained.

“R-right!” Demitri followed up with the same pattern as before; this aural copy wasn’t as intelligent as Rhys, and didn’t think very dynamically. It also seemed to only know one move, Aura Sphere, and kept using it against Demitri. It was raw power—but between Mispy’s healing and Demitri powering through any strike, they would surely win.

“I’m pretty impressed at their teamwork,” Zena remarked. “Were they trained that way, or were they designed with that cooperation?”

“I’m not sure,” Amia said, “But I think at some point you need to _learn_ how to cooperate, don’t you think?”

“They could have had the base instilled in their instincts,” Rhys said, “but we had to train them the natural way for real teamwork.”

“How are you feeling, dear?” Amia said. “Does it… hurt you, when they attack that aura?”

“Not at all. It isn’t me—it’s just my power in a shell, working off my basic fighting reflexes. It’s a tiny piece of me, just enough to let it fight at the simplest level. Nothing more.”

“…You seem to use Aura Sphere a lot,” Amia said.

“W-well, it’s very reliable,” Rhys said. “It isn’t as if I’m fighting Ghost Types very often.”

“Hmm… I suppose Owen will have an easier time against you, if that’s the case,” Amia hummed. “After all, one of his Types can handle Aura Sphere quite well. And the other one has an advantage over Steel!”

“Ngh—well, he doesn’t need this training,” Rhys said. “…Amia, get ready to bring them to Emily if this does not go well. The moment that aural shell is destroyed, they will evolve. I know how much power I put, and how much they need.”

“Mm, of course,” Amia said. “Zena? Can you help?”

“I will. Emily should be back at her cave by now. Unless she had to rescue someone else….”

“We’ll just have to hope. If anything, it’s on the other side of the world, right? It should be safe. They aren’t fast like Gawen. And they can’t fly.” Amia paused. “Rhys, they can’t fly, when fused, right?”

“No, a Demitri-Mispy fusion shouldn’t be able to fly. They won’t have wings.”

“Good, good…”

“Now!” Mispy yelled.

Demitri dove out of the way, and the Bayleef fired her Solarbeam straight at Rhys’ aural shell. It disintegrated immediately, and the Beam left a bright, smoldering spot on the wall for Amia to repair later. Cyan particles rose and evaporated completely, and Demitri and Mispy felt the power contained within rush through them.

“Ooh, I think I felt a bit of that, myself,” Amia said, rubbing her arms. “Rhys, just how strong are you?”

“A bit on the strong side,” Rhys said. “Shouldn’t you be observing them?”

“A-ah, sorry.”

Just then, a white light enveloped them both. The group watched with tension; what would a Demitri-Mispy fusion be like in battle? An immovable fighter with constant regeneration…. Slow, but unstoppable. More worrisome—combining that with Gawen. Fast, unstoppable, and completely aware of any traps or advantages.

The usual white light was tarnished by black sparks. Their forms grew and morphed. And then it faded….

Demitri didn’t change very much compared to the normal Haxorus form. A bit taller, a bit bulkier, with defined muscles along his limbs. His tail had an additional ax-like appendage on either side, and the axes on his head were somewhat longer. It looked like they were detached slightly on his cheeks, too, removable like a self-grown weapon.

Mispy, however, looked dramatically different. While she still had a Meganium’s head and body, her limbs and tail were replaced instead by vines that were the same, pale green color as her body. The vines writhed constantly, and it was hard to tell what else was hidden away there. Likely, more vines, each one as thick as what her legs would have been.

“W-wow…” Demitri said. “That’s… that’s so… powerful! I feel like I can lift a mountain! …C… can I lift a mountain?”

“Not quite at that level, Demitri,” Rhys said, slowly rising. “Mispy, how are you feeling?”

The monstrous Meganium’s eyes were closed, but the flower petals around her neck, a vibrant pink with a white trim, swayed serenely on their own. She looked at Rhys and smiled. “I feel… correct.”

Everyone cheered—they hadn’t expected it to go so well.

“Wow! You’re both okay!” Amia said. “I can’t believe it! We didn’t have to fight you or anything!”

“Can we still do that?” Demitri asked.

Amia held her arms up quickly. “A-ah, let’s wait for a moment,” she said. “Um… Rhys?”

“I’m not surprised,” the Lucario said. “Compared to Gahi, Demitri and Mispy were much more disciplined in their meditation. I expected them to stabilize first.”

“Does that mean we beat Gahi and Owen?” Demitri said. “We stabilized first?”

“Well… you evolved last,” Rhys said. “But Owen stabilized first anyway.”

“But that’s cheating, right? Because he’s Mystic. So that means that we won, because we got to stabilize _all_ on our own.”

Rhys rubbed his forehead. “Yes, I suppose if you go by those rules, you two were the only ones to stabilize through training and effort alone. Congratulations.”

Amia giggled.

“Great!” Demitri said, pumping his fist in the air. “We won, Mispy!” Giddy, the monstrous Haxorus held his arms against his chest.

“So, um… what now?” Mispy asked, giving Demitri a playful nudge with her head.

“Let’s wait for Gahi and Owen to wake up,” Rhys said. “After that, we can plan our next steps. With the Dark Orb in… uncertain conditions, our options are a bit narrow. The only confirmed sighting we have is the Frozen Oceanside, and we may have already lost that one…”

“But it’s worth checking anyway, just in case,” Amia said.

“Of course. And the other, is…”

“Dark Mist Swamp,” Rhys said. “Oh, and Arachna Forest. I’m certain there is a Guardian there of some kind.”

“And then there’s the Orb at Zero Isle,” Amia said, counting using tiny embers. “That, counting the ones we know Eon already has, and then the ones that we have…. Oh! Rhys! Isn’t that everything? Aside from Brandon at the factory… that’s all of the Orbs!”

“It is,” Rhys hummed worriedly. “We’re nearly there. If we can gain an edge against Eon, this may very well work out….”

Enet twirled a claw through the fur on her chest. “And then?”

“And then…” Rhys said.

“…We beat the bad guy up?” Enet asked.

“…I suppose we do.”

 

Gawen’s eyes opened instantly, waking up with a sharp gasp. Memories flooded his mind, and his hand reflexively grabbed at his chest, clutching at an invisible heart. He grunted and doubled over, panting, shaking. He covered his mouth next, gagging. The phantom pain of the old memory was overwhelming. It slowly passed enough for him to move again. He was dizzy. By the color of the mushrooms, it was late in the morning.

He sluggishly got out of bed and stepped outside just in time to see Amia on her way in. “Oh! Owen—er, Gawen, I mean,” Amia said. “Um… look! Demitri and Mispy evolved, and they’re just fine!”

Gawen stared at the evolved pair emptily. They waved.

“Are you okay?” Demitri asked.

“You look…” Mispy said.

“Did you have a nightmare, dear?” Amia asked. “It must have been so frightful, for you to look so… ghostly.”

Gawen looked at Amia, then at the others. He felt sick from that final memory. And sick from it all finally piecing together. There was a glimmer of relief that it was finally all there. But he wished he forgot the part where his soul had been torn apart.

“…I… I remember,” he said.

Amia’s eyes flashed in surprise. “You… do, dear?” she asked delicately.

Gawen nodded. He stared at his hands, and then stared intensely at Demitri and Mispy. “I remember everything.”

And then, with that single statement, it looked like Demitri and Mispy remembered it all, too.


	43. Special Episode 3: When the World Was Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the final moments of sanity of the Synthetic Quartet.

Bright lights lined narrow hallways of concrete and metal. White walls surrounded polished floors of marble tile. Every sound echoed for ages across the labyrinth and in these halls echoed a voice, youthful yet monotone, becoming less and less interested with each number it said.

“253.”

“Next.”

“…812.”

“Next.”

“439.”

“Next.”

“…Uncle Hecto?”

“Are you unable to determine the value of this collection?”

“No, it’s… it’s just 170 pebbles, but… this is boring, Uncle. I feel my tail-fire dimming. I think I’m actually dying of boredom.”

A tenth of a Zygarde sat in the middle of the room with an assortment of glass jars. He pawed at each one to center it between himself and the mutant Charizard across from him. Each jar was filled with many tiny objects. Pebbles, seeds, leaves…. And Owen counted the number of them in seconds. And all around them was a great, empty room with little to distract from the tests. A controlled environment, it seemed.

“Hm. I see. You wish to end this test?”

“Can we just skip to the hardest one and work backwards?” Owen asked.

“…Very well. Three tests. If you pass them all, we can end the exam prematurely. Do you have any objections, Nevren?”

“No, that will be just fine,” a voice echoed from the ceiling, out of some sort of device that emitted sound with a buzz.

“Good,” Owen said. The flame on his tail brightened significantly.

Hecto pawed at the largest jar and slid it over. “Next.”

Owen was quiet for seven seconds. “Exactly a thousand.”

Hecto nodded and then slid the second jar over. “Next,” he said. But there was a twist to this one; the jar was completely black. It was impossible to see inside.

Owen took three seconds. “Fifty, exactly.”

Hecto nodded. “Next.”

“…You didn’t move anything,” Owen said.

“There is a jar outside of this room, where you have never gone. How many items are inside, and what are they?”

Owen blinked, but then he nodded and closed his eyes. It took him fifteen seconds, but then he said, “…Two Cheri Berries.”

“…That is… incorrect.”

“What? But that’s all I see.”

“The correct answer was two Cheri Berries, seven Oran Berries, and a Pecha Berry.”

“But I only _see_ two Cheri Berries,” Owen said firmly. “Go see.” He flicked his tail irritably, expecting Hecto to go.

Hecto stared, but then stood up and trotted out of the room. Owen rubbed at his arms and stretched his legs. He felt numb. He sat down on his left side for too long; everything felt tingly. He was afraid to strike at the numbness; that would be unbearable. He’d be incapacitated and on the ground for ages.

Hecto returned. “Owen is correct.”

“What? Where did the other berries go?” Nevren said. “I was going to have those as part of my lunch!”

“There are little bits of Rim’s fur near the jar,” Owen said.

Hecto left to inspect Owen’s claim. He returned. “Owen is correct.”

“Well,” Nevren growled. “In any case, Owen has finished all of his tests. I will not need the extra data, considering what I have already obtained. This will do for now. Thank you, Owen. You may return to the recreational room.”

“Um—actually, how are the others doing?” Owen asked. “Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi, are they… done yet?”

“They are nearly finished,” Nevren said. “But you must remember, Owen, that their training is much more taxing on their physical bodies than yours.”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to get a headache…” Owen said.

“Ah, let me note that down,” Nevren said. After a pause, the voice resumed, “Well, do as you like, Owen. Just don’t interfere with the testing.”

“I’m gonna see Gahi first. I know the way, and he’s closest, right?”

“Hmm… Let me see the map…. Yes, at the moment, he is the closest, followed by Demitri, and then Mispy.”

“Thought so. Okay. Thanks, Dad!”

 

In another room with even more white tile, a green blur flashed across the field. This open area would take a normal person at walking pace five minutes to cross; this blur, however, was doing laps in just under five seconds—the bulk of that time being the beginning and end, where he reversed directions.

A loud buzzer sounded; the mutated Flygon stopped in the middle of the field, collapsing on all fours, panting. “Peh… peh… beh…” he said. “You went… way too long…” he said.

“That was very good, Gahi,” Nevren said. “I gained a great deal of data from observations and vital readings. That is your final test for the day.”

“Good,” Gahi wheezed out. He rolled over until he was on his back. “Was gonna jus’ melt away if that kept up…”

“Gahi!” someone called.

The Flygon tiredly turned his head “Oy, Owen, how’re yeh doin’?”

“Fine! I just finished my tests. D’you wanna go see the others? I’m gonna see Demitri next.”

“Sure,” Gahi said. He was still on the ground and showed no signs of movement. If it wasn’t for his quick breathing, he’d look long dead.

“…Are… you gonna stand up?”

“Too tired.”

Owen sighed, stepping over the Flygon with an amused smile. “I’ll help,” he said. “Just roll over so I can carry you on my back, alright?”

He approached and got Gahi’s right arm first, hauling him over his shoulders; then, on his back, Gahi wrapped his arms around Owen, and then his tail coiled around the Charizard for security.

“Thanks; I c’n barely move…”

They walked through the halls in silence for half of the trip. Then, a thought crossed Owen’s mind. “Gahi?” he said.

“Eh?”

“Tell me about the outside world again.”

“Heh…” Gahi bumped his head against the side of one of Owen’s horns. “It’s big, an’ there’s a huge light in th’ sky that makes up fer all th’ lights that we’ve got down ‘ere. Yeh saw that befer, when we go outside. But it’s dif’rent, when yer flyin’ all aroun’ in that sky…”

“Sky…” Owen repeated. “That sounds amazing. You can just… go, as far as you want, and there’s no wall that keeps you enclosed.”

“Yeah. No walls. An’ up there, in the sky… space. That’s what Manny called it.”

“The crazy guy you met when you ran off?” Owen asked.

“Yeah.”

“What was he like? How come you talk like him?”

“’Cause he’s cool. He’s like Uncle Rhys ’cept better.”

“Aww, but Uncle Rhys is great,” Owen said. “But this Manny guy sounds pretty cool. Maybe we’ll meet him sometime. If we ever get let out again…. Why’d you have to run away like that? Now we’re grounded forever! Rhys said so!”

“’Cause it looked fun,” Gahi said. “I came back!”

“After, like, a week!” Owen said. “Uncle Hecto had to search high and low for you! All of his Zygarde, too! Well, most of them….”

“Feh.”

A new voice cheerfully called them. “There you guys are!”

“Auntie Star!” Gahi and Owen said.

The Mew happily floated over to greet them, bumping against Owen’s chest. “How far did Nev push you this time, Gahi? Or are you just faking so Owen can carry you?”

“I ain’t fakin’!” Gahi said. “I, eh, I was runnin’ fer a while, is all. Felt like m’ legs’re jelly.”

“Wow, must’ve been for a while,” Star said.

“What’re you doing back here, Star? I thought you were busy touring the world again.”

 “Today’s a big day,” Star said. “We’re finally gonna put your final ability to the test.”

“Our final ability? W-wait! Do you mean that thing that Uncle Nevren told us never to do?”

“The melty thing?” Gahi asked.

“Yeah. But now, we’re gonna do it! He thinks we’re ready, and I think so, too. Or, as ready as we’ll ever be. If things go wrong, we’ll just split you guys apart again, but—yeah! Isn’t that cool? C’mon! Elder’s making us some lunch, and then we can go.”

“Sweet!” Owen picked up the pace. “Oh, but we have to get Demitri and Mispy first.”

“Yeah, of course. Demitri just finished up, but Mispy’s taking a little longer.”

“How much did Demitri lift this time?” Owen asked.

“Well, he broke the presser, uh, again,” Star said, “so I guess Nevren has to find a way to double the pressure… again. But that’s for another test!  D’s pretty pumped about breaking Nev’s things.”

Star floated for a while longer, her two tail-ends swatting at one another. She turned around. “Walking all that way is boring. Can I just teleport you guys there?”

“You have a Badge?”

“No, silly! Nev’s still testing that, too! I meant with my move, Teleport. C’mon!” She tapped their shoulders, and then they all vanished in a flash of light.

 

“Sorry about breaking your things again, Uncle Nev…” Demitri said, rubbing the back of his head. “I dunno what got into me.”

“Ah, but what do you mean by that?” the voice in the ceiling said.

“I felt like I was at my limit, but then I just… felt more power well up! But I think if I went any further, I’d’ve collapsed.”

“Ahh, thank you, Demitri. That is just the information I was seeking,” he said.

“So, uh…. What do I do about that?” he asked, pointing at what appeared to be the remains of a giant, metallic pillar, and a crater in the ground.

“I will handle it later. I believe Star and the others are heading to the dining room.”

“Oh, okay. But can I see Mispy first?” Demitri asked. “I want to see how she’s doing with her training.”

“Demitri!” Owen called.

“Oh, guys! Did you see Mispy yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” Owen said.

“We were just about to!” Star said. “Aww, what, worried about your girlfriend?”

“Sh-she’s not my girlfriend!” Demitri stuttered. “I—I mean, is she still doing her tests?”

“She’s nearly finished,” Nevren said. “I’ll have to talk to her shortly for the final setting. Feel free to go to her observation room. Star?”

“You got it, Nev,” Star said.

 

“Well… congratulations, Mispy,” Nevren said. “You’ve outlasted the Beammaker at its full sustainable capacity.”

“Good!” Mispy said. Her countless vines writhed with pride. “I win?”

“Yes, you win,” Nevren said. “Now, for the, ah, bonus fight.”

“There’s a bonus?” Mispy asked eagerly. The modified Meganium bounced slightly on the ruined ground—of all the training areas, Mispy’s was the most in need of repairs. The concrete floor was riddled with craters and cracks; the metallic walls were warped and bent in some areas. Thankfully, this particular room was reinforced with a secondary wall beyond the first one, specifically because of Mispy’s training.

“Yes. Ah, but we should wait. I recently got off of a talk with Demitri and the others—they’ve come to wait for you.”

Just then, Star appeared with the rest. “Hey, Mispy! How’s the Beammaker going?”

“I beat it!” Mispy said.

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm! And now, um… The bonus fight!”

Star sighed. “Wow, Mispy. That kinda blows me away, actually. For Nevren to be able to create someone so, uh… you!”

The creature giggled, covering her head with three of her vines.

“You mean she withstood that giant blaster?” Demitri asked. “Mispy, doesn’t that hurt…?”

“Nope!” Mispy said.

“Don’t forget, Demitri,” Star said, “Mispy doesn’t register pain the way normal people do. She knows she’s getting hurt, but… it doesn’t _hurt_ hurt, you know?”

“Not really…” Demitri said. “Maybe if we fuse I’d understand!”

“We-e-ell, let’s wait a while, huh?” Star teased. “After lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Mispy said. “Um… You should go.”

“Oh, right,” Star said. “Everyone! To the other room! Let’s wait until Mispy gets her test done, okay? We can watch with Nevren!”

“Ahh, of course. Please head into the other room so you don’t get hurt by the shockwaves or thermal energy. Be sure to put on your UBGs, too, yes?”

They shuffled out of the area and into another, smaller room. There, a thick, clear window separated them from Mispy’s area. A weak buzz vibrated the ground…

“Nevren must be charging up,” Owen said.

“Protective gear, everyone!” Star announced, flying over to a small chest in the corner of the room, passing what appeared to be Ultra Black Glasses—an enhancement of the usual item by Nevren, just for this purpose.

“Is that really necessary…?” Owen said.

“No, if you don’t mind going blind,” Star said. “I can’t heal you every time, y’know!”

“…But you can,” Owen said.

“Well, maybe I won’t _want_ to,” Star winked.

Just then, Rim appeared behind them.

“Oh, hey Rim!” Star greeted.

The Espurr smiled.

“Rim, did you eat those berries during my test?” Owen asked.

“H-huh…?”

“The berries out in the hall.”

Rim’s eyes widened even more than usual. Owen worried that they’d pop right out of her head.

“Yeah, those were part of one of my tests.”

“S… S…. S-sorry…!”

“Aww, it’s alright. I got to prove Hecto wrong because of it! That must be, like, bonus points or something.” Owen helped Rim with her pair of Black Glasses. “Let’s watch Mispy, huh?”

“Mm.”

The vibrating got louder. The ground shook with power. “Uhh, what’s Nevren doing…?”

“He’s charging the Beammaker 3.0 to its fullest output,” Star said. “To the point where, well, it’s not gonna be operational afterward. But seeing as Mispy can withstand the non-breaking blast, I guess he’s gonna have to make 4.0 anyway…”

“Wow… she’s so strong…!” Demitri said; Owen practically saw the Haxorus’ happy eyes through the glasses.

“Of course, she is,” Owen said. “I mean, she has to be! She’s our defender component!”

“Keep ‘em on!” Star announced.

In an instant, a giant blast of light, heat, and kinetic energy hit the ground where Mispy stood—it was a constant, rumbling stream that shook the very ground beneath them. The building withstood the shaking, but Owen wondered if Mispy would be able to do the same thing. She always carried a Reviver Seed with her when this happened, hidden within the many tendrils beneath her. The Beammaker would stop prematurely if it was ever activated. But Owen still worried.

The Charizard saw many of Mispy’s vines disintegrate away; at the same time, parts of her body burned away and reformed at the same rate that her vines vanished. Indeed, that was the secret of Mispy’s power source – by using all of that extra mass below her, she could recover constantly for quite a while. Just how long was still being determined by Nevren.

The Beammaker finally stopped with a stuttering blast, and Mispy, less than half her original weight and surrounded by the ash of what had been destroyed, shook her head and coughed out even more of the black, burned mass. “Ugh…” she said.

“Mispy!” Demitri called. He took off his glasses and ran into the main room, tripping over the mounds of ash the closer he got to Mispy. “Ugh—gross—Mispy, did it hurt?”

“No,” Mispy said. “But I feel… weak.”

“You feel weak?” Nevren said. “That’s good to know. Thank you.” He paused to log down his findings and the results in his notes. “You may eat as much as you like, Mispy. The food is ready.”

“Great!” Star cheered. “Man, that’s perfect! Okay, let’s go! Mispy! Need help walking?”

“I’m fine,” Mispy said; she was already latched onto Demitri, riding on his back with her cheek pressed against the back of the Haxorus’ head. Gahi and Owen smirked at the dragon; he blushed but did nothing to push Mispy away.

 

The mess hall was filled end to end with food and dishes made by a team of five Hectos. Star hopped onto the back of one of them, “You’re such a good cook, Hec,” she said. She planted a kiss on his cheek. The expressionless Zygarde’s ears rose imperceptibly.

“Thank you,” Hecto said.

“Are you sure about having five of you here? Even though you were able to bypass your cell limit, five is pretty big out of a hundred.”

“Five is adequate for here without weakening my observational abilities for the rest of the world,” Hecto said. “Hmm… I should also point out,” he said, “that I believe the Ghost Orb is stirring…. A Goodra wandered into its location, and the Ghost spirits attempted to kill him. Or, well, absorb his aura to become part of their brood. However, it appears that he is too strong…. They may have found a vessel.”

“Ghost Orb?” Nevren repeated—this time, his voice came from himself, and not from the ceiling. The Alakazam walked toward the table and made for himself a modest plate of food. “Hidden in plain sight, yet too strong for us to approach safely…. It’s unfortunate that the Ghost Orb was the first one we could locate.”

“Ugh… those guys were mean,” Star said, looking off. “They like to play pranks on me. Not even I have an easy time getting close to them.”

“I mean, they’re Ghost Types, right? Don’t they sorta play with life and death, and you’re kinda… y’know… a Creator?”

“ _The_ Creator,” Star said.

“What about—”

“Arceus didn’t do the creation of life part,” Star said. “That’s all _me_. He did the physics and all that…. And maybe a few on the lower pantheon, but, y’know.”

“O-okay, okay,” Owen nodded. “But maybe they just toy with you because they kinda break your rules?”

“Pbb, rules, I didn’t make any rules. W—wait! I _made_ their species too, you know! I think they just do that because they have an advantage over my natural Type. And I guess I’m a little spooked by Ghost Types…” The last part was said too quietly for them to hear.

Owen scanned the room and spotted Rhys picking from the berry salad plate, getting a heaping pile for himself. “Uncle Rhys!” he said. “Are you good against Ghost Types? No, right?”

“Not particularly,” Rhys said. “Two of my moves are completely ineffective.”

“Isn’t that awesome aura-armor thing also Fighting Type?”

“It’s Typeless,” Rhys said. “It affects all Pokémon equally.”

“Wow…” Owen said. “That’s kinda cool!”

“Heh, too bad yeh’ faint af’er usin’ it,” Gahi said.

“Ngh, I’m working on it,” he said in a growl. “…Where’s Eon?”

“He’s inspecting the lab,” said Nevren. “You know how he is.”

“Oh! You mean our new friends that you’re making?” Demitri asked.

“Yes! Precisely,” Nevren said.

Gahi glanced off uncomfortably.

“They’re coming along very well. It won’t be long before they’re ready to be activated. Though, they may not be as strong as you all. Perhaps future creations…. Ah, that reminds me.” Nevren looked at the four. “When you’re done eating, perhaps we should attempt the full-fusion immediately. If the Ghost Orb found a vessel… we may want to nip that in the bud now.”

Mispy flinched.

“Not in that sense, Mispy,” Nevren said. “Hecto, how is the vessel faring?”

“He is…” Hecto said. “Befriending them.”

“B-befriending?” said another, shaky voice.

“Elder!” Rhys said, stepping over. He had a second plate in his hands. “I made your plate, Elder. Please, enjoy.”

“Ahh, Rhys… Thank you.”

Elder was a Torkoal of giant proportions, at least twice the size of the average of his kind. He was also twice as slow; he may have been on the way to lunch all morning, for all they knew.

“It seems that Mispy is having her fill,” Elder chuckled.

The behemoth’s vines had morphed into mouths, chomping away at entire piles of food; the food channeled directly into her body, forming more vines to eat away. It was horrifying, but Owen and the others were so used to it that it was a comforting sight to see her so content.

“She’s got the right idea,” Owen said.

And so, they all ate. Elder went for mostly greens and fruits, while Demitri focused on many of the meats instead. Gahi and Owen had a more balanced diet; Mispy ate whatever was placed in front of her, including one of the plates, accidentally. Somehow, it seemed like her body was able to process that, too. Rhys, concerned, asked if Mispy was feeling okay. She responded with a nod, mouth too full to speak.

With their plates filled, Star asked Elder, “Didn’t you try to negotiate with the Ghost Spirits?”

“I did,” Elder said. “One of the first to show up before me, at least. But those spirits…” He shivered. “It’s no wonder they’re not hidden – even with the knowledge of where they are, approaching it is simply too difficult. Assuming you aren’t killed by the feather-arrows of their commander from afar, the…” Elder shivered again.

“It’s okay, Elder. Perhaps this is for the best,” Rhys said. “If someone has befriended the hostile spirits, then perhaps we can then befriend the vessel. Hecto, how is…?”

“The vessel has fully assimilated the Orb. He is now their commander.”

“Astonishing. What an incredible Pokémon,” Nevren said. “Perhaps I should contact him later…. He would be a substantially useful asset.”

“Yeah. But for now, let’s test out that fusion!” Star said.

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Owen said. “Right now! I’m done eating!”

“Yep,” Gahi said.

“Me, too,” Demitri said.

Mispy swallowed multiple piles of food with her vines and her normal mouth. “I guess,” she finally said.

They walked through the halls and eventually went to another training room. The four excitedly bounced with each step; Mispy nuzzled at Demitri’s back, and Gahi elbowed Owen, remarking that they’d finally get to put all this work to the test. And finally, they entered the training room—a somewhat smaller area, more like a waiting room than anything, and stepped into the very center of the chamber. The echoes were strongest here, as if the past was reminding them of its existence. Nevren, Elder, and the others stood at the edges of the room to observe and prepare for any potential mishaps. Rhys stood closer to keep watch on how their auras interacted. The four of them stood facing one another.

“Where’s Eon?” Demitri asked.

“Right here!” Heavy footsteps—the voice came from someone that sounded exactly like Demitri. And, indeed, a doppelganger of Demitri entered the room, holding his knees. “Sorry for the wait—I lost track of time….”

“Eon, did you eat at all?” Nevren asked.

“No, I’ll eat later. This is more important,” Eon said. He transformed into Nevren right when Nevren spoke.

Nevren nodded. “Very well. Okay. Are we ready?” he turned his attention to the four synthetic Pokémon.

“Ready!” they all said.

“Use Mispy as the central figure,” said Nevren. “Given her size, it will be the easiest. Good, a bit closer…. Now, you must all close your eyes and focus. Relax your minds, and then your bodies. Try to tune in with the auras of one another…”

Owen breathed slowly, and he indeed could feel their presence. He breathed a bit faster when he felt his body lose its shape, wrapped around in the many vines in front of him. Gahi was next to him, and his side was melting into his. He didn’t know how to describe it. This happened now and then in the past, but they always woke up before they totally fused. It was such a warm, tingling feeling, as if their very nerves were being attached and intertwined with one another. But they’d always pull away. It wasn’t too hard to do that. But now—was this…? He didn’t want to stop. This was deeper than they’d ever gone—and he couldn’t get enough. Just a little more….

“Keep going…” Nevren said slowly.

Rhys watched; his expression slowly darkened. “Nevren,” Rhys said. “I don’t think we should keep going. We should separate them.”

“What’s wrong?” Star asked.

“Their auras aren’t attaching properly. Something isn’t right with it. They aren’t ready—perhaps some more training, or—”

“Guys!” Star said.

Gahi, Demitri, and Mispy were all too involved in the fusion to sense anything else. Owen, however, heard them. “What’s… what’s wrong?” he said in a slur. “Wait… I need to go… further…”

“Owen!” Rhys said. “Back away! Stop the fusion!”

“I… I can’t…! It’s… too…” Vines wrapped around Owen’s head, and his body was lost to the amalgamation. He let out a final breath; he could hear the thoughts of his components plague his own. And his thoughts plagued theirs. He couldn’t feel his arms any longer. His wings went next, and then the rest of him. His mind was the last to go.

The rest of the memories, while there, felt blurry and rushed. With his mind not fully intact, he only felt raw emotions and instincts, reflexive actions. Without any mirrors, he didn’t even know what he looked like in this final, monstrous, whole form. Fading images filled his mind—fragments of memories that pieced together to show, finally, the full picture. He remembered roaring—feeling an overwhelming power that forced out all other thoughts.

He remembered Star floating in front of him with great, white wings made from long, glowing tendrils. She had tears in her eyes. Of what, he didn’t know. Horror, sadness, regret? It could be any of them, or all of them.

“I’m sorry,” Star said.

And then those wings… He remembered they stabbed into his—no, _their_ body. And then that horrible feeling, like his very soul was being ripped apart…. The surge of power that sliced through every bit of his being.

And then, as soon as the pain became too much to even remember… the wings parted, still pierced within his body, tearing him into quarters. That was where his first life ended—and where countless new, false, forged lives began.


	44. Act II - A Stubborn Ego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two creators observe their creations and reflect on their mistakes. The world is changing, and a divine battle is at its tipping point.

The Hall of Creation was made of pure, white, shining tiles. Light shined from above, bounced off the walls, and illuminated the floor. From wall to wall, an entire army of Owens could march, wing to wing, twenty units across, and have room to spare. The ceilings were tall enough to accommodate another twenty flying far overhead. The hall led into a chamber at least four times as large. It was here that Arceus himself stood, staring at a great spherical projection in the air.

To the naked eye, nothing was happening. But to Arceus, he could see every event of the world, and focus on parts he deemed worthy of his attention. And right now, his attention was tuned to something that was not even a part of his own design….

A flash of light appeared behind him, and a tiny, pink thing landed on his back. “Yo, Barky,” Star said. The Mew’s tail flicked with an air of innocence, but the larger, Alpha Pokémon knew all too well that she was taunting him.

Barky growled.

“Still watching Owen, are you?”

Barky stared at the sphere. The projection expanded; its outer edges faded, and a thin, faded view of Hot Spot Cave’s interior came into focus. It showed everyone—aside from Anam and Nevren—sitting in the middle of the square. They seemed to be calming Demitri and Mispy down. But the vision was quite faded. The high concentration of divine energy between all of the Guardians made it difficult to observe them. Even Anam and Nevren were difficult to watch so close because of their power.

“His aura stabilized,” Barky said. And while Demitri and Mispy were distressed, they appeared to be in no danger of losing themselves to those old instincts. Rhys’ plan worked. It took centuries… but it worked.

“Yep. Guess I won that bet after all, huh?”

Barky snorted. “I do not gamble. That is a mortal’s vice.”

“Being wrathful is a _mortal’s vice_ , and look where you are, huh?” Star said.

That one stung. Barky’s left hoof rubbed harshly against the floor. Star, looking down at the hoof from atop his back, shook her head. Arceus could never quite control his anger. That, combined with his holy and inflated head, was a combination that Star never trusted. It was likely the one thing that kept him from taking Owen’s power. And it was _always_ the one thing that held him back from bring a proper god.

“What do you want?” Barky finally asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Star said in a sing-song tone. “I’m just popping by.” She twirled a lock of his fur between her tiny claws.

Barky didn’t say anything in return. He went back to watching the mutated Charizard.

“It’s pretty impressive that science can create something that I couldn’t,” Star said, looking at the blurry image of Owen and Gahi, merged together into something that was never supposed to exist. By her standards, at least. But she didn’t mind their presence, and it was not something that she intended smite. If anything, she accepted it. Owen was nice, after all. And she liked Gahi’s attitude.

Star went on. “Between Nevren’s knowledge over genetics and Rhys’ knowledge over the aura, they managed to make the perfect fighter out of four pieces. Aside from a few flaws. But… I’m glad he’s finding himself. He didn’t deserve that fate—none of them did.”

“And yet, so many more have been created since then,” Barky said. He turned his head so his right eye stared directly at Star. The piercing, unblinking, green-red gaze made Star shrink, just slightly. “Are you proud of that?”

Star bit her lip. She hated when he was right. Sure, Owen and his team were under their own control. But the others? What of them? Would they be slaves to the remaining Hunters forever? Was that her fault? No—it couldn’t be. She… didn’t have that sort of influence anyway. It was up to the mortals to fix it. “…They’ll work it out,” Star said. “I have faith in them.”

Barky scoffed. “Faith,” he said, “is for the lower creatures, not gods. We _are_ their faith, Star. You cannot fall back on it as they do, for we are where it all ends. There is no higher authority.”

Star’s tail flicked irritably. She wanted to punch him in the back, but that would just show him her weakness. She kept it together. “You say faith is something for mortals to do, but so is bickering, but we’ve been doing that for the age of the universe. So what then, huh?”

Barky had no response. He returned to watching the sphere.

Star huffed through her nose. Her toes clenched on the fur, prodding between two vertebrae on his spine. She kicked off and leaned forward, hanging her arms over part of the golden wheel attached to his back.

“Hey, Barky,” Star said. “You know they’re eventually going to gather them all. _Someone_ is. And none of the Promises they made can keep that from happening. So…” She trailed off. There wasn’t much else that she wanted to say to him. He made his point. Frankly, talking to him just made her feel worse. She had no idea what Barky was thinking, either. They couldn’t read each other’s minds. She’d love it if he let her. But if he didn’t, then she wouldn’t let him, either.

“I’d get ready.” She floated off of him. Her heart felt heavy, but she shoved it away. She wanted it all to be over, but he refused to listen. And maybe she refused to listen, too…. But she was right. _She_ could be the one to fix it, if Arceus just _let her._ That had to be it. “Because once I have them all…” Star went on, “you’re done.” She vanished.

There was no wind in the Hall of Creation. Complete silence accompanied the tension Star left behind. The Creator broke it with a gentle tap on the ground. It echoed for five seconds. Barky wondered if he spoke too harshly toward her. Because she was right. He did get angry. But Star was no better. Star was too immature for that sort of power. She mingled with the spirits of mortals as if they were at her level. They simply weren’t. Yet now, she behaved like one. And yet, in the end, it always got her hurt.

“How did it come to this…?” he said.

But he didn’t like the answer.


	45. The Poisoned Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group disbands to gather three more Guardians. Owen's group heads to where the Poison Guardian, one of the Trinity, is presumed to be located. Rather than encounter the Guardian, they run into an old enemy, first.

“We had no idea that this all would’ve happened,” Owen said. “All from fusing together that one time, we just… lost it.”

“It’s okay, Owen,” Demitri said. “None of us knew—even Nevren didn’t know for sure.”

They were all sitting in the square of Hot Spot Cave. Anam and Nevren were still at Kilo Village, but the rest gathered around to see what Demitri, Mispy, and Gawen had to say.

“So, are you guys gonna split up yet?” Willow asked.

“I—I will, later,” Gawen said. “It’s just, we never got to do this sort of thing before and be sane about it, and… er… and I like how this feels. I know it’s weird, but… I don’t know. It just feels… good.” He looked off. “But I know I can’t be like this forever. Owen and Gahi, my two halves, we like being ourselves, too.”

“So, right now… I’m talking to both of you, in one mind?”

“I think so,” Gawen nodded. “I don’t feel like Owen or Gahi individually. I think we’re both awake right now. Pretty cool, huh?”

“At least he took on Owen’s vocabulary,” Demitri mumbled to Mispy.

“I heard that,” Gawen said. “Don’t think Gahi isn’t still around, y’know.”

“Kept Gahi’s attitude,” Mispy giggled.

“But… Star, how come in my memories,” Gawen said, “you looked… solid? What happened? There’s no way the Hunters were strong enough to summon you the normal way…”

“Oh, I was… I was actually there,” Star said. “I’m… not allowed to do that anymore.”

“Wait… you mean…” Demitri said. “You mean that’s why you never, um, physically visit this world anymore? Because Arceus doesn’t let you?”

“We don’t let each other,” Star said. “Barky came down after I split you four up, and… and he wasn’t very happy. So, we sealed each other off, trapped in the spirit realm until we both agree that we can both descend without a summoning. So… basically neither of us can come down at full strength anymore.”

“Wow…” Demitri said. “So, you guys are… in a standoff, kinda?”

“Pretty much,” Star said. “Isn’t really any other way to phrase it than just a divine deadlock between the two of us…. Which, by the way, is probably why he’s so obsessed with this Orb business. If enough Orbs get into either of our hands, well—we’ll overpower one another, and who knows after that. Whoever gets all the Orbs will tip the scales.”

Gawen nodded. “…But… I’m not aligned with you, Star. Or Ba—or Arceus. Why would you want me to have an Orb? After all, you were the one who….”

“I guess,” Star said, “I… think you’d know to make the right choice, in the end.”

“That’s not part of my design, is it?” Gawen said.

“No, no,” Star said. “Nevren and Rhys and I—we never planned to have any of you be the vessels for all the Orbs. Definitely not. That was supposed to be Eon.”

“Th-that’s even worse,” Gawen said.

“L-look, I know he had a bad first impression, but… his heart’s… in the right place. In a way.”

“He killed Cara and Forrest,” Gawen said. “He was the one who ordered Rim to do that. H-how are they, by the way?”

“Well, I was gonna bring you over to celebrate with them a while back, if you remember before Eon showed up, but, uh… they’re okay. Forrest is fine. Cara’s a little timid as usual, but, y’know.”

This didn’t satisfy Gawen. “Well,” he said, “either way, I… think I want to head out and get another Orb, okay? I was thinking about maybe trying that Poison Orb—it’s probably the Poison Orb, at least. Dark Mist Swamp.”

“W-wait, that’s…!” Amia said. “You shouldn’t go there. It’s too—”

“Sure, sounds good,” Star said. “You and Gahi can go, and… well, let’s not have you four fighting at the same time together yet, okay?” she said. “So, another two can go with you. Maybe Anam can go, and, uh… Wait, he’s still at Kilo, never mind that. Um….”

“Me?” Willow asked.

“Maybe not.”

Willow sparked angrily.

“Perhaps I could,” Rhys said. “My Steel type could help.”

“No, don’t,” Star said. “Not you, either, Manny. But I think it’d be safe if Enet went with you.”

“Me?” The Zoroark asked; she had been picking at her nostril with her right index claw for most of the conversation.

“Yeah. You, Gawen, and… Amia! I think that’ll be safe for Dark Mist Swamp.”

“That’s an odd combination of Pokémon for a team,” Amia said. “Why?”

“They’ll be the most… agreeable to what they find there. And while they do that, I think we should also send out teams to check on the Frozen Oceanside and Arachno Forest. Pretty sure Arachno has a Guardian there, still, even if we haven’t talked in a while. Frozen Oceanside is a wildcard since we left it alone for so long. Hunters probably already got there, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Well, Anam could still go to the Poison place, right?”

“I said that, but…” Star looked up. “Where is he? He’s still at Kilo Village, and I dunno if he’ll be back for a while. I thought it’d be a quick little trip, but something must be keeping him. Is Nevren answering any of you?”

“No, not yet,” Amia said. “Should we try contacting him again?”

“Yeah, try that,” Star said. “I’d go try talking to Anam again, but those Ghosts play pranks too much in their realm… It’s hard enough to go through them, but they’ve been pretty antsy lately. Anam was just about to summon them against you, Gawen, but once he held back, well, they’re still pretty angry about it. If I go now I might have a problem leaving.”

“Hmm, well, we should probably keep Anam in mind once we’re done with these Orbs,” Gawen said. “While that happens, we can check out the Poison Orb.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Star said. “Rhys, how about you go to the forest with Demitri and Mispy?”

“Eh, I’ll tag along, too,” Manny said.

“Okay, that works. Another team of four. Zena, you think you can handle the ice?”

“I should,” Zena said.

“I wanna go too!” Willow said. “I said that last time!”

“I shall go as well,” said ADAM. “I feel that a team of three would be adequate for that location. Valle will accompany me; four will be a redundant and secure amount.”

“I did not agree to this.”

“You will accompany me.” ADAM turned his head, and only his head, to the Shiftry statue.

The cave rumbled quietly. “Very well,” Valle eventually said.

“Okay, okay,” Star sighed. “You two Luvdiscs can go. Someone leave a note for Anam to see when he gets back so he doesn’t freak out that everyone left, alright? You know how panicked he gets if he feels alone.”

“I’ll get to that,” Amia said.

“Okay, team. Let’s break! Don’t forget your communicators!”

The groups—Gawen, Enet, and Amia; Rhys, Manny, Demitri, and Mispy; and Zena, Valle, ADAM, and Willow—all prepared their inventories, gathered up, and dispatched.

 

“You know, Owen,” Amia commented, “you’re very obsessive about everybody’s inventories. I think you were starting to rub people the wrong way.”

“But—but you saw how they were preparing it! They had clear holes in their inventory.” Gawen, with Owen as the dominant mind, pleaded his case. “Willow didn’t even pack Oran Berries! Who goes on a Mission without Oran Berries? Even if you’re Mystic, you can’t go unprepared. A single Oran Berry can heal you for more than half your health most of the time, you know. It’d be even better if you brought two.”

Enet nodded. “They taste good. And things that taste good are good.”

Amia rubbed her head. “Well, that’s true, but did you really have to sort through their items one by one?”

“Well, I found that empty Elixir bottle in Demitri’s bag, didn’t I?” Owen said. “I knew something didn’t feel right. What if he ran out of power for Dual Chop, tried to restore it, and got nothing but an empty bottle? They’d be done for!”

“O-okay, Owen, you made your point,” Amia said.

“And Rhys! I can’t believe him! I thought he’d be better about it, but he didn’t even bring a Petrify Orb with him. It’s not as if he has crowd-control attacks, either. One ambush Monster House and—okay, okay, she said she gets th’ point already! I’m takin’ over, yer’ actin’ up!”

Amia sighed. “Thank you, Gahi. I think Owen was getting more worked up than he needed to.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’,” Gahi snorted. “I was considerin’ de-fusin’, but af’er that, I’m gonna let’m simmer down.”

“He talks a lot,” Enet said. “Big words.”

“Feh, worse ‘n Rhys,” Gahi said.

Enet nodded. Uneasy, the Zoroark took in their surroundings. They had been going through a forest, and the last river they passed was quite clear. But now it was starting to smell a bit different.

Something dripped from a branch above them. Amia reflexively touched her shoulder and shrieked. “Oh—GROSS!”

“Wh-what?!” Enet said. Her fur puffed up, making her look twice her size.

Amia flicked her hand against a tree trunk; purple goo spattered against the wood. “Poison Orb indeed—oh, where’s my Pecha Scarf, I’m just going to mmmnfff…” Amia tied the scarf around her face.

“Stinky,” Enet complained, grabbing her own Scarf.

“Good thing I prepared for this…” Owen said, taking over the body. He grabbed a scarf and wrapped one around himself. There was a spare in the bag in case they decided to separate.

That was the first encounter they had of the dripping goo. They weren’t even sure where it came from—inspecting the trees above revealed nothing. But they were certain that the Poison Orb was here. They felt the Mystic aura getting stronger, corresponding directly to the prevalent, purple fog that polluted the atmosphere. But Owen sensed another presence nearby that didn’t get stronger nor weaker. Were they being followed? It felt… vaguely familiar. It was recent, compared to his long, long life—but it still felt distant. It was from before his latest round of memories. Someone he met in a previous ‘life,’ in a set of scattered memories.

“Is that…?” Owen mumbled.

“Is what, dear?” Amia asked.

“I think someone’s following us,” Owen said.

“Oh? W-well—we wouldn’t want to frighten them. Maybe you should separate.”

“Frighten?” Owen asked. “What, I’m scary er somethin’?” Gahi asked.

“…You… are very kindhearted,” Amia said delicately. “You don’t seem very scary since we know you,” Amia said delicately.

Owen’s wings drooped. “So, I look kinda…?”

“Big and strong and scary,” Enet nodded.

“Oh, Owen, it’s not your fault!” Amia said. “Or you, Gahi, it’s just—how the dragon Pokémon tend to look, usually! It’s just how you are, but it has nothing to do with—”

“Okay, okay,” Owen sighed. Despite it, he smiled. “I’ll de-fuse. I think I still sense—whoever it is…. I swear I know who it is, but…”

After a bit of focus, Gahi stepped forward from the malleable body of the fusion; Owen closed up behind Gahi, rubbing his chest to make sure everything was where it should have been. He didn’t feel as empty. Maybe he was having an easier time fusing and parting, both mentally and physically, now that they were more in sync—or perhaps because he was starting to get sick of sharing a mind with the other.

“Wha’ d’ya see?” Gahi asked.

“I see…” Owen closed his eyes. “…It’s an… it’s someone sneaking around, I know that. And he’s been following us for a little while…. W-wait! Hey!” Owen shouted, pointing at a nearby bush. “It’s—it’s Aerodactyl!”

“Eh? Wait, yeh talkin’ about th’ one from way back then, ehh… that was th’ life befer this one, righ’?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I was a Charmander, but it was before the last time our memories got reset. H-hey! Aerodactyl! I thought you were serving time!?”

At first, there was no reply. But then, a moment later, he emerged, smirking. “Well, look at you,” he said. “All evolved in such a short time. Guess you were a late bloomer after all… eh?” He snorted. “…I escaped. Turns out it’s pretty easy to just fly away if you find the right opportunity.”

“B-but… but you could’ve gotten a job! And everything!” Owen said. “Wouldn’t that be better?”

“Ugh, what sort of bleeding heart are you?” Aerodactyl said. “Look, Charizard, I dunno what your deal is, but that boring kind of life isn’t for everyone. I’m a Pokémon—and I can live off the land as I please!”

“Um, Owen, who is this?” Amia asked.

“Smells mean,” Enet said, growling.

“He’s that Outlaw, remember? The one I got on one of my last Missions before all this Orb stuff happened. He must’ve escaped and hid here where nobody could get him….”

“Yeah, well,” he hesitated, “That’s exactly it. Problem is, this place isn’t exactly the best place to hide, either. Can’t get too close to the center without feeling sick. Nobody comes here. No food to steal. And all the fruit tastes… tainted.” He looked off. “But it’s _still_ better than how I was living after _you_ caught me.”

Holding his chest in a similar way that Amia does, with his right arm against his heart, he said, “B-but I was trying to help! You can’t live this dangerous life! There aren’t enough… resources to keep living that way!”

“Pah! It’s better than struggling just to make ends meet. You have it easy. You’re strong, and part of the Thousand Hearts. Did you ever wonder why so many people want to get into such a dangerous business of Rescue? Or why there are only really a thousand of you at any one time?”

“B-because of standards? Right? And because it’s for people to help everyone! What else would you put yourself at risk for? And—and you could take a job that isn’t rescuing, too! You could help clean the buildings, or gather food, or—”

“I can’t live off of that without living my whole life doing it,” he said. “Look at you, all pampered and groomed to be a Heart. And don’t think I don’t know _your_ story,” he pointed at Amia. “You used to be a Heart, too! Now I don’t know why you’re still alive after all this time, but you guys are part of a long line of Hearts. The elite class! And then there’s us, at the bottom. As if we ever had a choice.”

Amia flinched. “I—I’m not who you think I am,” she said. “Gardevoir simply don’t live that long.”

“I’d bet you come from that line, though. Am I right? Of the Fire Clan? My family line was at the bottom ever since our little feud with yours. That’s how the story goes, and it seems pretty obvious, even now, that it’s true!”

“Fire Clan?” Owen said. He had no idea what that was. He deduced that this was how the Fire Orb was presented to the general public.

Aerodactyl snorted again. “I’m in a bad mood. I haven’t had a good meal in days. But you know what really fuels me? It’s seeing folks like _you_ who don’t know how the world really is. It’s time to even the playing field!” He got into a battle stance. “Give me all you have, and I’ll let you go. Otherwise… You’ll die, right here!”

Enet hissed, fur on end.

 “Honestly…” Owen rubbed the back of his head, playing with his left horn with the tip of his claw. “Aerodactyl, c-can’t we talk? It sounds like we have like three layers of issues to go over here! Maybe we can—”

“I’ll talk if you hand over everything you have,” Aerodactyl said.

“That’s not right, either, y’know!” Owen said.

“Bah, ferget this guy! Let’s beat ‘em up!” Gahi said.

“Gahi, we can’t—this isn’t a Dungeon. If we defeat him here, he might…. Mispy isn’t with us, either.”

“Ngh… then we’ll beat ‘im up gently,” Gahi muttered.

Owen considered their options. What Gahi proposed, at this point, was probably the best thing they could do. “Enet, stay back,” he said. “I don’t think you can attack softly, and I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Attack… softly?” Enet asked. “Like playing?”

“Not… not really. We’ll handle this one, okay?” he said.

“Hmph…” Enet didn’t fight it. She stepped a few steps back; her foot landed in more of that purple slime. She winced and kicked away; it stuck between her paws. She sat on a nearby rock, picking away at the goop with her claws.

Owen stepped forward.

“Oh, really?” Aerodactyl said. “Hah! Charizard wants to fight?”

“Yeah,” Owen said.

“I’m a lot stronger than before, you know,” Aerodactyl said. “Don’t think this’ll be some easy repeat compared to last time!” He slashed at the air, making a small shockwave.

“That’s cool,” Owen said. “I guess that training helped you out, huh? You know, with all that work, you might’ve even made it into the Association…”

For some reason, this made Aerodactyl’s face screw up into some strange mixture of anger and desperation. He opened wide and chucked a Rock Blast straight toward Owen. The Charizard ducked—the blast hit Gahi, standing behind him, instead.

The three consecutive blasts broke open against the Flygon’s head. “Ow,” he muttered, rubbing the small wound.

Owen started to walk forward; his lithe frame, for a Charizard, allowed for easier movements, even up close to his opponent. Aerodactyl took a nervous step back. “S-stop dodgin’!” he said. “How d’you know where all my attacks go?” But then he smirked. “Heh… got you!”

Nothing happened.

“E-eh?!” he said. “But—but the—” He looked down. Owen’s vines had covered the pitfall trap he had set. “Where’d those come from?! Y-you—got lucky!” Aerodactyl tripped on another vine and fell backward. His wings beat frantically to stand up, but by then, Owen was right in front. In a panic, Aerodactyl lunged forward. His teeth sank into Owen’s scales—powerful jaws that could split logs in half. And yet… when Aerodactyl crunched down, nothing broke. He didn’t even taste blood. Owen’s body simply _resisted_ the attack—bending against the teeth, yet not breaking.

“Aerodactyl… A lot’s changed. I’m not that weak Charmander anymore. And this just… isn’t worth my time. Please, just go. If you go back… I’ll tell Anam to go easy. You can get a second chance, okay?”

All the while, he gnawed as hard as he could against Owen’s body, but it was as if he was immortal. Even with his strength, even if he was a little weak because of the miasma he’d been living in for so long, how could he be doing almost _no_ damage against this Charizard? He let go and blasted Owen, point blank, with a Rock Blast. Owen felt this one—he winced, but he still took the blow. A small blemish on his scales was left behind when the five consecutive blasts connected.

“Y-you’re crazy! Y-you’re some kind of—some kind of—freak!”

“W-well, I mean…” Owen, caught off guard, glanced away for only a second. That was all Aerodactyl needed. He jumped away with a single wingbeat, panting. “This… this isn’t over!” he said. Aerodactyl searched for a way out; this deep, the forest looked the same in all directions.

“Hey, you ain’t gonna get away! I’m fas’er’n you’ll ever be!” Gahi threatened, taking a single, threatening step forward. His foot landed right in a large puddle of purple sludge. “Aw, gross!” he shouted, stepping away. He glanced at Owen. The Charizard had it covered. Disgruntled, he sat next to Enet and picked at his foot with her.

“Please. Just… think about it, okay?” Owen said. “I know where you’ll be.”

“It’s… it’s not worth it!” he said. “Just—leave me alone! And I’ll figure out my life on my own! I don’t need _you_ to tell me how to live, you—you pampered little—”

Another glob of slime fell from the tree, landing on Aerodactyl’s right wing. “Ngh—I _hate_ this forest!” he shouted. “What is all this?! If you go even deeper into this place, what happens?! Purple goo falls from the trees! Disgusting!” He pointed toward Owen; it seemed like the purple goo was getting larger, sinking into his wing. “I hate all of this! I hate _you_! I hate this _life_! I…! I…!” His eyes filled with tears. “It’s just—not—fair!”

Enet looked up for just a second. Her eyes bulged. “Wing!”

Owen focused on the wing of Aerodactyl and saw the membrane… melt away—turned into more of that poisoned goo. Aerodactyl didn’t even notice it, not until Enet said so. He bent the stump of his wing back. “Wh-wh…! What…!”

It advanced; the goo that dripped from his wing landed on his leg, which melted next. He screamed; it didn’t look painful, but the Rock-Flying Pokémon was panicking. He flailed, and that caused more goo to spatter on different parts of his body. Aerodactyl only had one leg to stand on; he tried to hop away. “S-stop… make it stop…!”

“A-Aero—it’s okay!” Owen said, rushing forward.

“N-no! You get away from me!” he said, swinging his other wing. The melting was advancing rapidly—he couldn’t move with his legs anymore. Even his tail had dissolved; his upper half remained, just his one wing and head. He dragged what remained of his body across the ground to keep running.

“Stop!” Owen said. “H-hang on!” He dug through his bag, his mind racing. There had to be a way to help. Had to be! And then Owen saw it—a Pecha Scarf. Could he—

Aerodactyl’s wing was gone now. Without a chest or even a torso, he had no means to speak—just fearful eyes staring ahead. Owen wrapped the Pecha Scarf around his head. “Th-there!” he said… but nothing happened. It kept going; his long neck dissolved next. Just the head. Desperate, Owen stared a bit longer. “No, no…!”

He closed his eyes tight. He had an idea. He focused on his power a bit more—deep within him, that divine energy held within that Orb. He channeled it from those depths and pushed it into his claws, and then into the scarf. It was all he had left to try. All he was thinking about was trying to save this outlaw’s life. He wasn’t going to forget that fearful look in his eyes. What a horrible way to die. He refused to let it happen. Stop it—make it stop. Owen _commanded_ it to stop.

The melting… stopped. The Pecha Scarf was glowing. Not even Owen could believe it at first. With his heart racing, Owen checked to see if Aerodactyl was alive. It was hard to tell; the only indication was that he blinked. He wrapped the scarf around the stump that was Aerodactyl’s neck and turned his head. “A-are… are you okay?” he said.

He opened his mouth and, somehow, was able to speak. The Scarf glowed a bit with each word. “What happened? Why am I…? I… I can’t feel… I can’t feel my body…”

“It’s okay,” Owen said. “I’ll—we’ll get you to Mispy, okay? She’s a great healer. I bet she can patch this right up…”

“Is—is that gonna happen to me?” Gahi said. “H-hey, wait a second—ain’t that mine!?” he shouted, pointing at the scarf.

“I—I feel like this is a little more important, Gahi!” Owen said.

“Ngh… yeah, I guess,” he relented.

“A-Aerodactyl, sir, does… does it hurt at all…? W-we can go back right now if you want!”

“N-no, it… it never hurt. B-but I can’t feel… my body anymore. I’m just a head….” His voice raised with confusion. “What happened to the rest…?”

“I—I don’t know,” Owen said. “But we’ll figure it out, okay? We’re just going to carry you with us for a little while.”

Gahi sighed. He looked at his foot. “…How come that never happened to me?” he said. “I… I dunno. I feel fine. Am I in one piece?” he looked at his tail, then his wings. All fine.

“It touched all of us,” Amia said. “but it only affected Aerodactyl…. That’s so strange. But we should still be careful. Gahi—are you Mystic?”

“Nah,” Gahi said. “I think Owen’s still got all that. Still, eh… good thing I ain’t a puddle yet. I don’t wanna melt… Looked painful…”

“It wasn’t,” Aerodactyl said irritably. “Do you even listen?”

“He’s not the best listener,” Owen whispered.

“Oy, what’re yeh sayin’ about me?” Gahi growled. “Meh, let’s keep goin’. If he ain’t hurt he’s fine.”

“Okay,” Owen said. “Oh—here, Gahi. Take this,” Owen said, handing his Scarf over. “If you’re not Mystic, this purple fog might hurt you anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Gahi said, wrapping it around his mouth. “M’kay. Let’s go.”

And so, the five advanced through Dark Mist Swamp.

“…Your name is Owen,” Aerodactyl said.

“Yeah. Um—what’s your name?” Owen asked.

He snorted. “Like I’d tell…”

Owen nibbled at his tongue but said nothing.

“…It’s Jeremy,” the head said. “Just call me Jerry.”

Owen nodded. “I’m glad I could help, Jerry.”

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” he growled. “If I have to live like this forever, just kill me.”


	46. Frozen Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team heading for the Frozen Oceanside struggles to find and save the Ice Guardian.

The northwestern corner of the world was covered in a perpetual, thick layer of ice. The white field was dotted with black rocks and sloping hills of snow and ice. The ground wasn’t stable, and there were a few incidents early on where Valle had fallen into thinner portions of the ice and had to be hauled out before he sank to the bottom. With some levitation, they were able to manage their way through the worst of it—as Mystics, the cold didn’t bother them too much at first. But the deeper they went into this icy territory, the more it seemed that their Mystic powers lost their effect. The cold’s horrible fingers crept into Zena and Willow the most.

“I can’t f-feel my… e-everything…!” Willow said.

Zena nodded. “It is… quite cold. I am glad that I can deal with such things normally… but it may be a bit much if I go any further… I feel like my Water form would solidify completely if I transformed….”

“I guess then you’d be a pretty Milotic ice sculpture, a-at l-least,” Willow said.

“System processors are functional,” ADAM said. “The current temperatures are allowing my processors to overclock safely without additional cooling.”

“The temperature has little effect on me,” Valle said. “But I would want to avoid water. I do not want the ice to break through any cracks in my body. The expansion may destroy my limbs.”

“You could always m-move, you know,” Willow said. The tiny Joltik hopped from Zena’s head onto ADAM’s. The bitter cold licked at Willow’s fur during the jump, and she, for that split-second, worried that she’d turn solid right then. Thankfully, she landed and dug a claw along the side of ADAM’s smooth head—he buzzed in protest. “Mmmm… that’s _so_ much better….”

“Adam’s warmer?” asked Zena.

“Mhmmm…” Willow nuzzled up against one of ADAM’s smooth eyes. The optical lens flickered nervously. “It’s like Owen’s head. I wish he came with us. Owen feels nice….”

“He is nice…” Zena hummed.

“Huh?” Willow asked.

“Hm?” Zena said.

“Be careful,” Valle interjected. “The ice ahead of us is quite thin.”

Indeed, it seemed like the ice ahead was clear, the water below a lot darker. Valle levitated off of the ground, gently floating above the frozen floor.

He rotated his body. “You should do the same.”

“O-okay,” said Zena. She contorted and twisted her body, and then moved up, slithering through the air, reminiscent of a Rayquaza. “Well, this isn’t so bad…” Zena said. “We simply continue onward like this, do we?”

“Yeah! Um… but what are we looking for?” Willow asked.

“Scanning…” ADAM said. “No Mystic Aura detected. The next scan will begin in 200 seconds.”

“Oh, right, Mystic auras…” Willow said. “I wonder what the Ice Guardian is like. This one has to be Ice, right? I hope she’s at least a little warmer…”

“I have my doubts,” Zena said. “It has been getting… c-colder every step of the way.”

“But you don’t step,” Willow said.

“It’s an ex-expression,” Zena grunted. “Is it—getting even colder, by chance? I—I f-feel as if my v-very blood will be… solid soon…”

“M-maybe,” Willow said. While her belly was nice and warm thanks to ADAM’s heat, the fur on her back was forming ice crystals. The wind howled around them; this frozen tundra wanted no life to advance any further. Perhaps even Ice Types would struggle in such low temperatures. If it was this cold for _Mystics_ , how cold was it for a normal Pokémon?

“I’m positive the Guardian is ahead,” Zena said. “It—it just has to be. Even for here, this cold—just isn’t n-natural. Any colder, and we may s-solidify…”

“Even our Mystic power has no effect against this cold,” Valle observed. “It indeed must be from another Mystic, in that case. Perhaps we should make our presence known. The cold may subside if we express that we are… friendly.” Valle’s arm abruptly fell off, landing on the frozen lake with a dull _thud,_ leaving a crack in the thin ice. It slipped through and sank into the abyss, and the group all stared at it, mesmerized. “…I just replaced that arm,” he stated.

“L-letting ourselves be kn-known…. That m-might be a good idea…” she said. “G-Guardian of Ice! We are—the Guardians of—Water… Fairy… oh… what are the other two…?”

“Normal and Rock,” said Valle. “We wish to speak with you in peace. You seem to be a very skilled Guardian—I’m sure you can, in some way, read our intentions.”

They received no reply but the wind. Willow winced when a particle of snow got in her eyes; she rubbed one of her legs on the lens to clear it up, and then attempted to burrow against ADAM’s smooth body. It didn’t work, but she tried anyway, just to keep moving.

Finally, the cold let up. It was still freezing to a mortal, but to a Mystic, they could finally resist the bitter frost.

“Thank Arceus.” Zena sighed. “Let’s keep going.”

With the Mystic cold gone, the normal ice was nothing to them. Willow hopped off of ADAM’s head and landed on Valle next. He protested halfheartedly, but at this point gave up on the tiny Joltik hitching a ride on the others. She offered to chip away at the layer of ice that had formed on the Rocky Shiftry’s body, using her little legs as ice picks. He accepted this as payment.

A thought occurred to Valle. “Have you ever considered taking on your evolved form?”

“No, because they aren’t cute,” Willow said. “As the Fairy Guardian, I have to keep up an image of being cute and deadly. You wouldn’t understand.” She stuck her tiny head in the air. “Now hold still, I need to pick at the ice on your joints. Oh, right, you don’t move!”

“Somehow, I think Valle, of all of us, would understand keeping up appearances,” Zena thought aloud. “But really, cute and deadly? Why can’t a Fairy Type be… well… just cute?”

“Some are.” Willow hummed, thinking. “But that’s less fun. I wanna be both! That way, I can scare people or make them coo at me, and I get to choose what and when!”

“Hm,” Zena said. She wanted to remark that Willow was one of the least deadly of the group—but recalled her little talent of shrinking her opponents. Perhaps she _could_ be trouble if they upset her.

“I like how quiet it is,” Willow said. “It reminds me of home, except it’s ice instead of grass.”

“Oh, home?” Zena said. “My home was quiet, too. But I didn’t enjoy it as much. I used to speak with my spirits a lot more often, but… in hindsight, perhaps I depressed them with my loneliness.”

“You were lonely?” Willow asked.

ADAM buzzed. “My input sensors, too, were lacking stimuli for very long ranges of time. The log files of my arrival to that strange temple have corrupted long ago. In fact, such a large amount of time passed in my lifetime that I had to add a byte to my time counter in order to accommodate for my logging. My species was not built for such large timeframes.”

“I dunno what any of that is, ADAM,” Willow said. “What do you mean, built? I thought your kind came from Ditto getting creative.”

“…I believe that humans made my kind originally,” said ADAM. “But I do not know how that is possible, if humans are from another world.”

“That _is_ curious…” Zena said. “Perhaps they used to exist… but died off?”

“Maybe we ate them,” Willow said. “Humans don’t sound very strong. I bet they were secretly at the bottom of the food chain, and eventually we just realized that and ate them!”

“I’m not so sure,” Zena said. “Remember what we heard about from the others about Brandon. They have other advantages…. Apparently, they’re smarter than Pokémon, or perhaps have something else to give them an advantage over us… The way he was described, Brandon seemed very skilled, even if he isn’t human anymore.”

“He sounds weird,” Willow said. “I dunno how I feel about humans. I don’t think I like them, if they’re all like Brandon.”

ADAM buzzed uneasily.

“There appears to be an obstacle ahead,” Valle said.

Everyone stopped their advance.

Zena squinted at the obstruction. It appeared to be transparent, but something was inside, too. A silhouette darkened the core of the large lump of clear ice. At least, she imagined it was clear; there was a layer of frosty snow that made it impossible to see through it clearly. “What is…?” she said. Was it some sort of rock with a thick layer of frost? Or…?

“O-oh no!” Willow said. “Someone got frozen over in the ice! I can see their aura still trapped in there!”

“Aura? How could someone survive such a freeze?” Valle said. “Most bodies would perish under such cold.”

“It’s alive, so we should try to help,” Zena said, accelerating her slithering pace. “What is it…?” She closed her eyes to focus her senses entirely on the aura. It was weak, but it still had a shape. How horrible—it must have been awful to freeze over in such a way. Would they even be able to speak? A brain on ice didn’t sound like a good thing…. “It appears to be a… Torkoal, is it not?”

Indeed, it was a large, orange Pokémon with a brown shell, frozen in ice. Based on the aural strength, he wasn’t conscious, and based on its compact shape, he was hiding in his shell.

“A Fire Type on Ice…” Willow said. “That must be a really strong Guardian to do something like this…”

“Hmm…” Valle said. “How can we free him?”

“There is no need.”

A deep, metallic voice filled the air this time. They turned and saw a remarkable sight—something entirely see-through, made of the very same sort of ice that surrounded the Torkoal, like glass. The Pokémon was bipedal, but had a bulky frame; her tail whipped heavily behind her, and she had sharp, long horns atop her head. Everything about her was intimidating. A single chomp from those solid jaws could slice even a Steel-Type in two. The Ice-Aggron took a few steps forward and bowed.

“Welcome to my home,” she said. “Do not stay long.”

“Uh—” Willow bristled and sparked with pink dust. “Are you the Ice Guardian? We’re Guardians, too! Don’t we kinda have that in common to be friendly?”

“Hunters have Orbs, too. Hunters are Guardians. I wouldn’t consider myself to be… _that_ , you see.” She nodded. Then, she stared at the clump of ice that contained the Torkoal. “He doesn’t have an Orb—but he is still a Hunter, the one called Elder.”

She had an odd accent. While not broken, there was a sort of tough disconnectedness about the way she spoke, as if the nouns and adjectives and verbs were being placed next to one another forcibly, rather than in a flowing rhythm.

“Elder…” Zena said. “That sounds… familiar. Isn’t that the one that Rhys…?”

“Rhys?” repeated the Aggron. “I do not know of any _Rhys_ , but if he is also a Hunter, and you are with him…”

“No, Rhys is no longer a Hunter,” Zena said.

“You sound certain.”

“He made a Promise to me that he would not kill another Guardian,” Zena said. “A Divine Promise.”

The Aggron flicked her tail, bumping against the ice that encased Elder. Her arms crossed pensively. “I see…. And how do I know you are not lying to me?”

“I could Promise to you that I did not just lie,” Zena offered.

“…No. Not necessary,” she said. “You have truth in your eyes.”

“Oh. That was easy,” Willow said.

“The bug will speak with grace,” the Aggron glared.

“Eep—!” She hopped onto ADAM again and hid in the gap between his head and torso.

“Hm. Which Guardian is she?”

“Fairy. I suppose her personality fits,” said Zena, sighing. “She means well, I assure you. My name is Milotic Zena.” She moved one of her brows forward like a hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I am Aggron Step,” said the Ice Guardian, bringing her right hand forward for a shake. Contact made Zena’s brow freeze, but Step didn’t realize it. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Will you follow me to my home?”

Zena glanced at the frozen Hunter. She also used her other brow to rub off the ice from where Step had made contact. “…Could you release him?” she asked.

“…The Hunter? Why?”

“I believe he is harmless,” Zena said.

“Of course he is harmless. He is frozen.”

“Wow, ADAM,” Willow said. “She’s even more literal than you are.”

“I shall make a frozen Joltik next, if she does not watch herself,” Step growled.

“Nnn—!” Once again, Willow hid away, though this time it was behind Zena’s head, shrinking until she could fit between her scales. Her tiny voice said, “Call me when she’s not scary!”

“Hmm…” Step said. “Well. I suppose I will let him out. I intended to use him as a bargaining chip when the other Hunters came, but if you are sure it is safe…”

“Ah—about that,” Zena said. “That is somewhat the reason why we came. You see, we were trying to gather the Guardians together as a sort of… strength in numbers against the Hunters, to defeat them should they try to attack us all at once.”

“Oh? The opposite approach, then, to the original plan?” Step asked. “I was quite happy with my quiet solitude.”

“Y-you… liked that?” Zena winced. What sort of Pokémon could enjoy that horrible loneliness, and crave more of it? Zena recalled many long nights cursing her existence within those damp caverns, thrashing about in frustration, yet also her fear of dying. She had stagnated in there, until Owen put his feet into her lake. That was when it all changed…. Zena shook her head. The cold must have been getting to her.

“I did, yes,” Step answered. “I could spend an eternity here with only myself and my spirits. There is no need for others.”

“Wow…” Willow said. “I mean… I guess so…”

Only Zena could hear Willow, given her size. “I suppose we all react differently to the plan, but for now, we do need to change. Step, would you come with us? We can bring Elder, too.”

“Hmm… You understand why I am hesitant,” Step said.

“Y-yes, well,” Zena said, “What if we… bring him frozen, first? And then we will… thaw him at home, where we can be in a more controlled environment.”

“Hmm…” Step crossed her arms, considering. “That will have to wait.”

“Yes, it will,” Valle said.

“What?” Zena asked.

“My aural sensors indicate a team of synthetic auras as well as one Hunter is approaching.” ADAM reported.

“W-wait—ADAM, can you tell what it is?” Zena asked.

“…An Espurr… is the Hunter,” ADAM said.

“Rim…” Zena growled.

“Synthetic auras are more difficult to identify.”

“It matters not,” said Step, slamming her fists together in a loud crash. Zena flinched at the noise. “They shall all perish by my frost.”

“W-we will help,” Zena said.

It didn’t take very long for Rim to arrive; behind her was a set of three synthetic Pokémon. One was a powerful, hooved, four-legged Pokémon with brown fur and even larger horns than usual—a Tauros. The next, a lithe, plant-like creature with bladed roses for hands, a Roserade, toughing the cold with little issue. And finally, a cyan-white creature with an elegant trot and smooth fur, an icy Ninetales.

“They are strong,” Step observed.

“Very,” Zena said.

Willow, returning to her normal size, said, “I can take ‘em! Just let me get close and I’ll shrink them down to little pebble-sized versions of themselves—and then—squish!”

“You don’t actually squish your victims, do you?” Zena said.

“Well—how else am I supposed to beat them? They’re tiny!”

Valle shouted to Rim, “What are you doing here? Have you come to kill the Ice Guardian?”

Rim looked down but shook her head.

“…Well. That’s good, at least,” said the Milotic.

The wind howled; the Espurr shivered and desperately rubbed her paws together, breathing into them. Frost dotted the fur on her wind-beaten left side.

The gray feline puffed again. Zena felt a pang of empathy for her. Neither of them were in a good condition to fight.

“Have you… d…d-decided?” Rim asked.

“Decided?” Zena asked.

“I have,” Step said, nodding. She looked back at Elder, frozen in ice. “Elder has been speaking to me in the spirit world for quite some time. And while I agree with much of what he says…. I must point out,” she stared at Rim, “that you brought those three synthetic Pokémon with you. Is that a threat?”

Rim flinched. “N-no, I… like… company.”

“What’s wrong with company?” asked the Roserade, flicking a bit of ice off of her petals. “Hmph.”

“I’m sure you knew what you were doing,” Step said lowly. “…And I have to say, I don’t agree with any of your practices. I believe Eon has lost his way. I don’t intend to follow him down his confused path.”

“So… you are an enemy….” Rim said.

“I suppose I am,” Step said, “though I do not agree with the agenda of Mew or Arceus, either. So that puts me nowhere, doesn’t it?”

“No, that puts you, uh…” Willow paused. “I guess that puts you with Owen.”

“Owen?” Step repeated.

Rim frowned, but then pointed a paw forward. That was the signal, it seemed—and all three synthetics rushed toward Step. The time for talk was over, and Rim planned to harvest Step’s Orb instead.

The icy Aggron opened her mouth and fired a chilling wave of frost toward the trio; the blast was so potent that the Roserade had to immediately fall back. The other two remained. Tauros rushed over the ice and rammed directly into Step; she grunted, holding her ground as much as she could, but at the same time, struggled to stay completely in place.

“How powerful…!” she muttered. “But… this will be… not enough!” She grabbed the Tauros by the horns and twisted her arms until it was on its side. She didn’t realize the third Synthetic had been preparing a Moonblast all this time. She took the blow directly. She lost her grip of the Tauros and fell back, behind the others.

“Guess that’s our turn!” Willow announced.

“Of course,” Zena said. She opened with a Hydro Pump at the Tauros while it was down.

Willow jumped in the air and tried to blast some of her pink mist at the Ninetales, but she was too fast. The mist was avoided easily, and then swept away by Rim’s Psychic from afar. Willow screamed angrily.

“Fully charged,” ADAM announced. He fired a Hyper Beam at the Ninetales while it was in the air; unable to redirect her trajectory, the icy Pokémon was blasted backwards and against a soft barrier put up by Rim. She coughed from the blow and struggled on her feet, standing shakily.

The Espurr, realizing that these synthetics were outmatched, raised her arm in the air and formed a strange, cyan aura in her paw. The three synthetic Pokémon stopped immediately and looked back. They glanced at their targets, and then ran toward one another, with no sign of stopping once they made contact. It could only mean—

“S-stop them!” Zena said.

Valle controlled many icy rocks to tumble their way, but a Psychic deflected the attack entirely. The three synthetic Pokémon slammed into one another and meshed into a single being—one with the base of a Tauros, the color and tails of a Ninetales, and thorns and petals adorning its body like scales. The fusion was in total control—not berserk, not even shaking. Rim held her paw forward; the fusion nodded and rushed them.

Valle fired another volley of rocks; Zena blasted them with a Hydro Pump; Willow fired a Moonblast; ADAM didn’t have time to fire another Hyper Beam. Instead, he buzzed with thought, watching the attack, in addition to Step’s Ice Beam, and waited to see how the fusion would react. All four attacks hit it at the same time—it roared in pain and stumbled in its dash, but still rumbled forward, even after taking so many hits. They didn’t have time to evade the strike; there was no telling how powerful their attacks would actually _be_ , considering how much damage it could take and still keep coming. With this calculation, ADAM announced, “Switching to evasive procedure.”

“What?” Zena said. “W-we’re running away?!”

With some kinetic force, he pulled out their Badge remotely and thrust it in the air; it shined. In an instant, the group, and everyone within that range, vanished in a flash of light. The fusion skidded to a stop, slipping on the ice. He stumbled and slipped, barely able to holds its footing.

“Did—did they really…?” He stomped on the ground angrily. “Running isn’t any fun! How could they?!”

Rim bit at her lower lip anxiously. The frozen Hunter, Elder, had vanished with them. The hunk of ice that he had been suspended in was gone, leaving nothing but a hole for fresh snow to fill.

Rim gulped. “Oops….”


	47. Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys and his group attempt to bring the Bug Guardian into their fold. Their encounter is anything but expected.

“Y’know, it’s kinda hard ter hate this place,” Manny said. “Nice air, strong trees…. Could do without all the Bug webs, though.”

Indeed, Arachno Forest was brimming with life. The trees were thick with dark leaves and strong trunks; very little light reached the forest floor. The ground was lush from recent rainfall. Every boulder hid a plethora of Bug Pokémon beneath it.

“I don’t like it,” Mispy mumbled. Her many vines delicately glided over the mud, hesitant to touch any rock for fear of getting bitten by whatever was inside. It didn’t hurt her, of course—but it was a very spooky feeling to get bitten by something she didn’t expect to be there.

Demitri, riding atop the mutant’s back, wondered if it was a good idea for Mispy in particular to come here. “You’re weak against Bug Pokémon, right? And I think, like… half of them know a lot of Poison moves, too.”

“None of these choices were favorable for Mispy,” Rhys said. “Ice, Poison, and Bug—if you want my opinion, this may have been the lesser of all evils. At least this area has a healthy forest.”

“More like infested…” Mispy mumbled. The petals around her neck glowed dimly.

“N-no Solarbeams yet, Mispy,” Demitri said. He gently stroked the back of her neck; this was enough to calm her down.

“I just… want to go home,” Mispy said. “And cuddle…”

Demitri blushed. “W-well, that doesn’t sound too bad…. But let’s get this Guardian, first.”

“Heh,” Manny looked back. “You two’re close.”

“Well, we trained together!” Demitri said. “We were both created, like Gahi and Owen, and we were supposed to work as a team. So, I guess in a way, this was meant to happen. I don’t mind.”

“Mm,” Mispy said. “Demitri’s cute.”

“I—I am not,” Demitri said, clicking a claw against one of his face-blades. “Don’t I look scary and gruesome? These things detach, you know!” He tugged at his right tusk, pulling it clean off. “I think I look awesome, not cute.” He wedged it back into place.

“Both,” Mispy said, turning her head back to nuzzle him.

“Now, let’s focus,” Rhys said.

“Heheh, what, too mushy fer yeh?” Manny teased.

“It’s simply not the appropriate time,” Rhys said, turning up his nose. “…Besides, I feel the presence of another Mystic aura far off. But… it’s difficult to tell where. It’s a powerful aura—my senses are being disrupted.”

“Oh, so it ain’t jus’ me,” Manny said. “I’ve been tryin’ ter sense any life that might be stalkin’ us down… but fer th’ life o’ me, I can’t. Not a single aura. Feh…”

“Mispy?” Rhys said. “Your sense of aura is stronger than either of ours. Can you sense anything?”

Mispy shook her head. “Blind,” she said.

“This Guardian must be deliberately masking any auras nearby,” Rhys surmised. “At least we know we found the right… _general_ area.”

Something rustled in the bushes far to their right. Mispy jumped; half of her tendrils writhed defensively; the other half crawled over her own body and wrapped around Demitri like a cocoon.

“M-Mispy—can’t see—gnnckk!”

“Who’s there?” Rhys said. “We—have no intention to fight, but will defend ourselves!”

“Speak for yourself,” Demitri, muffled, said. “I wouldn’t mind some sparring, but—we aren’t hostile or anything!” He squirmed until at least his head was free. “Mispy, can you see anything?”

“Mnn…” Mispy shook her head. “No.”

“…Who are you guys?” someone called. “And why do you look like… us?”

“Us?” Demitri asked. “Wait, that voice sounds… weird. I don’t like it.”

“…Familiar…” Mispy glanced at Demitri.

There were two Pokémon on the other side of the trees. If only because they were curious, the first one stepped aside to get a better look—it was a mirror image, an _exact_ copy, of Demitri, down to the last detail. Moments later, an identical copy of Mispy emerged next, writhing vines and all.

“I… I don’t believe it,” Rhys said. “Nevren made… another set.”

“A… another…” Demitri repeated slowly. His voice became quiet. “They’re… they’re us.”

“No, they aren’t,” Rhys said firmly, knowing what path Demitri’s mind was taking. “They look like you, but they’re different entirely. That isn’t you—Haxorus, what is your name?”

“Ax,” said the clone of Demitri.

“And you, Meganium?”

“Ani.”

“They’re… less creative,” Mispy noted. “Wait, but if…”

Demitri nodded. “If there are copies of _us_ , then—um—hey!” He pointed at Ax. “Do you know a Charizard and a Flygon that, um, come with you guys?”

“You mean Har and Lygo?”

“Seriously…?” Mispy mumbled.

“Yeah, eh… actually, hang on,” Manny said. “Why’re yeh guys ‘ere? Yer… synthetic, ain’t ya? Most o’ my spirits’re Synthetic. And they were all crazy until I helped calm ‘em down.”

“We were like that, once,” Ax said. “But Queen Trina helped us. Now we serve her.”

“Queen… Trina,” Rhys said. “Interesting—and this Queen of yours… may we meet her?”

“Why?” Ax asked.

Ani glared.

“Hm… we believe that she is a Guardian, perhaps of the Bug Orb? We are forming an alliance of Guardians to protect ourselves against the Hunters. If that’s agreeable to her, then we would like her to relocate to our… base, of a sort.”

“Hmm…” They both hummed. They stared suspiciously at Rhys; the look they gave him seemed to put the Lucario off his rhythm. He’d never seen Demitri and Mispy look at him so suspiciously before; even if these two _weren’t_ them, it still looked like it. He’d expect such skepticism from Owen, but Demitri and Mispy were much more rigidly loyal.

“Um…” Mispy said.

“What is it?” Ani, Mispy’s double, asked.

“…Can we fight?” Mispy asked.

“Heheh…” Manny shook his head. “Never change.”

There was a glimmer of temptation in Ani’s eyes, but she scoffed. “I don’t do things so childish for no reason. You won’t get a fight from me unless Queen Trina makes a request for it.”

“Well, all the more reason to meet her, right?” Demitri said. “Can we?”

“Well…” Ax said. “…Fine. We will _inform_ her that you are here. But it will be up to her if she can meet you at all, you know.”

“Sounds fine ter me,” Manny shrugged. “Lead th’ way.”

The both glared at Manny.

“Wh-what my colleague means,” Rhys said, “is that we would be honored to meet your queen, and humbly request that you lead us to her domain.”

“That’s _better_ ,” Ani growled.

Ax hopped on top of Ani’s back, and the Meganium slowly spun around on her vines and crept forward into the forest depths. Demitri and Mispy watched them uneasily. Even his habit of riding atop Mispy was something they did. But—no, that was just a natural reaction. Mispy’s body was great for traveling and carrying great weight on foot, or vine. If anything, Manny and Rhys should’ve been on top of her, too.

On the way to the Bug Guardian’s domain, Manny mumbled to Rhys, “Well, ain’t they proper… ain’t nothin’ like m’ fightin’ spirits…”

 “Synthetic Pokémon are just like we are, when you take away their modified instincts. As such, they can be raised and influenced to behave in ways you wouldn’t expect. It seems that this Bug Guardian is following a Vespiquen’s approach to raising an army…” Rhys nodded. “How interesting. I’m curious what species she is.”

The more they walked, the more the forest became blanketed in webs and silk. He could hardly see the trees through it all at this point; in fact, he thought, for a moment, that they weren’t in a forest at all anymore. Even the sky was blotted out by the web; they were in some sort of bug nest. A cave.

“Hey, eh…” Manny said. “You ain’t… turnin’ us inter lunch, are yeh?” he said.

“Lucario don’t provide very much meat,” Ani said. “Eating your kind wouldn’t be worth the trouble.”

“Th-that’s righ’, good thinkin’. ‘Cause we’d give you way more trouble th’n it’s worth.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Ax. “But should you give us trouble _anyway_ , perhaps we will reconsider. I’ve never had Lucario before.”

Manny puffed out his chest. “Feh, yer queen doesn’ sound so tough. I bet I could take ‘er down with jus’—”

Rhys was about to warn Manny to hold his tongue, but before he had the chance, both Ax and Ani turned around. The mutated Haxorus sprung from Mispy’s back, pulled from his face one of his bladed tusks—it was indeed detachable—and held it against Manny’s side. At the same time, Ani wrapped her vines around him and squeezed, making sure her thorns left a mark. He didn’t have time to react to the vines; Ax and his blade was just an additional threat. His frame cracked in three places.

“Hrngk—!” Manny wheezed.

“You will _not_ threaten the queen,” Ani and Ax said in a hiss. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” Manny rasped. “Got it. No threats.”

He was released, and then he collapsed to the ground, groaning. Demitri hastily got down and helped Manny onto Mispy’s back to recover.

“Idiot,” Mispy mumbled. This Fighting Guardian was _indeed_ where Gahi got his attitude from. He used to be such a good ‘mon, too. Now he was a delinquent.

“Good thing I don’ eat…” Manny said. He coughed out a glob of blood and rubbed at one of his broken ribs. He felt it healing. “These guys ain’t no joke…”

“They’re us,” Demitri said, looking at Ax. “Of course, they’d be strong.”

“He gets it,” Ax said, smiling at his counterpart.

Mispy giggled, bumping her head against Demitri. “Um…” Mispy spoke up. “Who’s… the queen?”

“Queen Trina,” Ax said, “or the Bug Guardian, like you said. She’s a Serperior, and she’s probably the strongest one in the world, even if you excluded her Mystic Aura. _That’s_ how strong she is.”

Manny looked like he was about to question his claim, but then remembered the immense pressure applied to his whole body. He decided against it and, perhaps for the first time in centuries, held back his words.

“Is she a merciful queen?” Rhys inquired.

“Absolutely. Queen Trina is the most reasonable Pokémon in the world. We owe our lives to her; we would be dead without her guidance.”

“Oh? How so?” Rhys asked. “You are Synthetic Pokémon—that likely means you were created by Nevren, yes? You came from the Southeastern Archipelago?”

“That’s right,” said Ax. “…How do you know that?”

“Er—I happened to know about the area. We’ve been investigating the Synthetic Pokémon and… those associated with them for quite some time now. It’s only natural that we would be familiar.”

“Hm.” Easily convinced, Ax continued. “We were sent here on a mission to take an Orb with us. We were led by Espurr Rim. Do you know about her?”

“I certainly do,” Rhys said. “We’ve fought one another in the past. She is very powerful.”

“Not as powerful as our queen,” said Ax. “She and her army were able to take down Rim’s onslaught—including us. But instead of killing us, she took us in.”

“She… took you in?” Rhys asked. “Were you not in your battle modes? I doubt Rim would return you to a neutral state in the middle of a battle.”

“We were still in that mode. But she took us in anyway. Her army of Bug Pokémon and her servants restrained us and dragged us to the deepest part of her cavern, the place we’re leading you now. And once we were brought there…”

At this point in their walk, the forest path gave way completely to walls of silk, lit only by the Mystic glow of the web and the little light that could shine through the cavern’s ceiling. It truly was a place made by, and for, Bug Pokémon. _Massive_ Bug Pokémon. The cavern’s ceilings were high enough to fly in, and even if they all walked side by side, they wouldn’t be able to touch both walls.

A cold, twisting feeling made a knot in Rhys’ stomach. He couldn’t see anything aurally, even within here. He could only rely on his eyes. The way the cavern was constructed absorbed almost all echoes; sound traveled only through vibrations in the webbing. And that could only mean that everyone in the cavern knew they were here. It was too quiet. He felt thousands of eyes staring at him from all directions, yet he couldn’t see a single one.

“Mm…” Mispy said. “What are… those?” She pointed a vine ahead. It was darkest there. Less and less natural light reached these parts of the labyrinthine corridors, leaving them to rely on the glow of the web instead. And with that glow, Mispy saw oval-shaped cocoons a bit larger than Rhys lining the sides of the large cavern. One of them moved. Another one twitched. The rest were completely still.

Manny tensed. He saw something else moving in that darkness. Something long, slow, graceful. It reminded him of Zena. “I think we found ‘er…” he said.

“Yes,” said Ax. He and Ani lowered their heads; Ax went on one knee, while Ani, lacking knees, sank lower to the ground and deeply bowed her head.

“Hm…” Rhys said. He followed suit, kneeling with his eyes closed. Demitri and Mispy, thankful to have references, mirrored the poses Ax and Ani took.

Even blind, Rhys couldn’t ignore the sheer aural presence radiating from the approaching Guardian. He peeked through his left eye—Indeed, it was a Serperior. She had long, green, leafy coils decorated with yellow under the hood and along her sides. The gaze from her red eyes pierced through them. Even without talking, Rhys felt like he wanted to speak every lie he’d ever said. Every sin he’d ever committed. He wanted to stay kneeling to her forever. To serve her. To—

Rhys shook the thoughts from his head and maintained his composure. _Queen_ Trina indeed—her hypnotic spell wouldn’t work on him. He glanced at Demitri and Mispy; they seemed a bit more susceptible, gazing emptily at the slithering royal.

Rhys quietly spoke, “Demitri, Mispy. Remember your meditation.”

That was enough to snap them out of it. Realizing what had happened, they watched Trina with extra caution.

“So that’s yer game…” Manny wheezed. He wasn’t affected at all, but between his crushed ribs and her immense pressure, he could hardly breathe.

“Queen Trina,” Ax said, “we brought the guests that you desired.”

“Desired?” Rhys asked.

“Yes. When you requested to see her, we felt her will, and her will was to allow it,” Ax said.

“We can feel her thoughts and commands, no matter where we are,” Ani said. “One day, if we die, our spirits will be bonded to her will even more. And it will be perfect.”

Trina spoke deliberately. Her voice was neither loud nor soft, but perfectly controlled so that Rhys and his team were neither startled nor strained when listening to her. Her volume was enough to command attention, yet not distract with its loudness. “You have fulfilled your duties for the day. You may rest.”

“We thank you.” The two synthetic Pokémon moved backwards, raised themselves, turned, and departed through one of the many corridors in the maze of webs.

“…That was weird,” Manny said. “That’s more calm th’n I’d ever seen a Synthetic like’m befer.”

“That is because I tamed them,” Trina said, staring at Manny. She observed the plethora of holes riddling the Lucario’s crushed body. “…What have you done to elicit Ani’s wrath?”

“E-eh, nothin’,” Manny said. “Yer highness. I ain’t meanin’ nothin’.”

“…You spoke badly of me.”

“E-ehhh.”

“I could turn you into a mere drone for that,” Trina said, staring right into his eyes.

Manny quickly looked away, some primal instinct inside of him telling him to avoid eye contact.  The spirits inside of his body roared angrily, outraged that someone would intimidate Manny so much. “Feh…”

“Hmm…” Trina said, looking him over, but then shook her head slowly. “It is not worth my time. I can sense that you, too, are a Guardian. It would be unbecoming of me to harm your spirits. They have done nothing wrong. But I do sense something curious…. Many of the auras within your body are… _also_ Synthetic, are they not?”

“Yeah…” Manny said. He tentatively moved his arm; it was back to normal. During their walk, his body healed roughly halfway. He rolled over and landed on his feet, stretching. “I kill ‘em, an’ then sate their hunger fer battle. Now they fight with me instead.”

“Interesting…. Perhaps that is another way to heal their damaged auras. You are smarter than I expected.”

Mispy giggled.

“And you two….” Trina said. “Your auras feel fully repaired. Just how did you do that? What treatment did you two go through?”

“We meditated a lot,” Demitri said.

“…Is that a joke?” asked Trina.

Rhys shook his head. “It is the genuine truth. Based on my theories of calming broken auras, and without any Mystic powers like you have, I had to put them through an intense meditation, regression, and training regimen.”

“Meditation… fascinating,” said Trina, eying the two. “And with just that hard work, they were able to maintain their sanity? How did you get them to meditate in the first place?”

“They were not always in these forms. I put them in their larval state—in other words… their pre-evolved forms. Thankfully, in that state, their instincts are almost entirely dormant—I was able to train them when in that state, so when they returned to their—”

“How did you revert them to a pre-evolved state? Evolution is a one-way path. Only with divine influence can you reverse it. The power of a Guardian, or perhaps a Pokémon of Legendary proportions, blessed by Arceus….”

“Not quite,” Rhys said with a little smile. “I have been blessed by Mew Star, in a sense. I have a tiny fraction of the same divine power you have within me, as a… former Hunter.”

Trina narrowed her eyes. “And how can I be sure that you are a _former_ Hunter?” he said. “It makes sense why you are aware of how to handle and tame a Synthetic Pokémon.”

“Actually, maybe Modified Pokémon is better?” Demitri asked.

“Modified? But you weren’t changed at birth. You were created from scratch. Your resemblance to other Pokémon is a mere coincidence, perhaps for the ease of creativity. You are Synthetic. Be proud of that.”

“P… proud?” Demitri repeated.

“Why would we be proud of that?” Mispy said.

Rhys felt a pang of guilt and looked away. “That’s—that’s not a way to look at it, Mispy.”

“We’re fake,” Mispy said.

“That’s hardly a healthy outlook. Hmph.” Trina shook her head. “Have pride that you are powerful.”

“Does Star even like us?” Demitri asked.

“Demitri—where is this coming from?” Rhys said, looking back at him.

Trina stared closely at both of the Mod Pokémon. “Yes, Demitri. Where are these thoughts coming from?”

“Enough games,” Manny said. “What’s yer influence on ‘em? I know it’s you.”

Trina glared; Manny’s tail involuntarily sank down, and he winced. He clenched his paws and brought his head up again, but little was going to bring his tail back to its original height. He just stared ahead. “You mess with th’ mind. Yer makin’ their inner thoughts stronger.”

“…It’s true,” Mispy said.

Rhys frowned. “…So… that’s truly how you feel about yourselves? That you’re…?”

“We’re strong,” Demitri said. “But… I guess…”

“…Maybe we’re… lesser souls.”

“Preposterous,” Trina said, and this time her voice was a lot firmer. Demitri and Mispy both shrank down like children. “You are artificial, but your soul shines like any other. Your aura may look different, but you are a life all the same. I may not care for Star’s attitude…” Trina gave the pair a small, regal smile. “But I am positive that she treats you at the same value as all other lives.”

Demitri and Mispy didn’t seem very convinced. The two Mod Pokémon looked away, and then fidgeted.

“I… I had no idea,” said Rhys. “I thought that they enjoyed themselves.”

“W-we do!” Demitri said. “It’s just—you know, sometimes, it’s nighttime, it’s quiet, and you’re just… alone with your thoughts… You start thinking about things… you know?”

“And it’s… wrong.” Mispy nodded. “We’re… wrong.”

“I—I don’t… I wouldn’t dare consider something like that,” Rhys said.

“Rhys…” Demitri said. “You spent _centuries_ trying to _fix_ us.”

“That’s…” Rhys hesitated, thoughts rushing to find some sort of counter. He couldn’t. Demitri was right—they were broken for the longest time, trapped in their own fighting, self-destructive instincts.

Trina nodded. “Out of respect for your teacher,” she said, “I have no interest in taking you into my hive. You seem to trust Rhys very much, and I see no reason why he would be a bad influence on you, if he is so dedicated to restoring your spirits. And for that, Rhys, I must praise you.”

Rhys did his best to hide his wagging tail. “I appreciate it,” he said.

Just then, a muffled roar echoed from one of the cocoons. It heaved from powerful punches from within, thrashing against the wall. A clawed fist burst out from the silk webbing. Without missing a beat, Trina turned around and smoothly slithered straight toward it, hissing soothingly. The hiss reverberated in Rhys’ ears, making them twitch and sink down. It was like a blanket that wrapped around his mind. He could’ve fallen asleep where he stood. It was even stronger on whatever was struggling inside; it let out a weak roar, and then the arm went limp. A vine emerged from her back, wrapped around the hand, and eased it back into the cocoon. She then mended the silk, slowly wrapping it back up. Her entire front secreted more of the white lines, and with each lap, the cocoon thickened. Demitri and Mispy shuddered.

“What…” Demitri said. “What’re you gonna do to them…? I—I thought Mystics didn’t have to eat…!”

“Oh, I’m hardly eating them,” said Trina. “I am storing them away so they can calm down. Every night, I help them sleep. And every morning, I wake them. Slowly, they grow accustomed to my voice and my presence. They long for it…”

“That’s creepy,” Mispy said.

Trina scoffed. “It tames them. Most of them are quite fine once they are awakened. If a moon passes, they are tamed, and they wish to leave… then I let them leave. It isn’t as if I _force_ them to stay.”

“Y-yeah, but, you brainwash them, don’t you?” Demitri said. “I can’t imagine myself ever calling someone a queen, and Ax was…”

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to Ax,” Trina said.

“Wh—bu—we’re literally the same person! I mean—body!” Demitri protested.

“Yes, but you were raised in a completely different way,” Trina said. “Instincts can only take you so far. In the end, I was able to soothe their minds and their auras, and then I introduced myself. Your kind are fiercely loyal to any leadership you deem worthy. So, me convincing them that I was worth their time was all I had to do.”

“Well…” Demitri said.

“How did you convince them?” Mispy asked.

“Well, after their auras were calmed,” Trina said, “I offered to battle them. After beating them—”

“W-wait, you beat them? Even when they fused together?”

Trina chuckled. “Do you really think such a petty maneuver will work on me?”

“P-petty? That’s hardly petty! We remember what happened—fusion was Nevren’s ultimate design, or something! It took our best features, and combined them! So, Owen’s awareness, Mispy’s healing, my offense, Gahi’s speed, all into one! We were, like, unstoppable.”

“Oh, I’m sure, in a battle one against one, you would certainly give the average Pokémon some trouble,” Trina said. “But I am not a normal Pokémon, and they did not fight against a single Pokémon. After all, four against one is hardly fair, hm?”

“W-well… that’s true…” Demitri said.

“A coordinated team of four could still defeat your fusion. There are limits, even to the ultimate fighter. From what I have observed, even Nevren’s design is limited by how many components fuse together, and how that can weaken the peak strength of any of those individual powers you listed.” Trina nodded. “And to add… Against a Mystic such as myself, there was truly no competition.”

“Well, aren’t you full of yourself,” Demitri mumbled irritably. A bit of his pride was scraped away at Trina’s matter-of-fact remarks.

Manny was prodding at the walls, marveling at the strength of the webbing. “So, eh… did yeh make this all yerself?” he asked.

“Of course. As the Bug Guardian, it is my obligation to make a home for my hive.”

“…Where’s it all come from?”

Trina glared. “It is uncouth to ask a Queen where _it all comes from_.”

“Y-yeh, okay, sure,” Manny said. He rubbed at his muzzle nervously, but then looked up at Mispy, who was fixated on Trina. “Hey, yeh feelin’ alrigh’?”

“H-huh?” Mispy asked. “Oh—yes. Um…” She sighed, but then looked at Trina.

“…You wish to fight me,” Trina said.

“Mhm.”

Trina smiled. “Perhaps later. I would like to return to the subject of your arrival. You wish for me to join you all?”

“Yes, we do,” said Rhys. “It may be cumbersome, but… we believe that the Hunters’ strength is increasing. We cannot afford to sit passively while Eon gathers them one by one. Even now, he has three Orbs under his influence. Even with your great power, Trina, I do not believe it would be wise to fight him, should he feel the need to confront you directly. That—is no insult to your power,” Rhys said quickly, noticing her strengthening glare, “but more a testament to his, simply due to his ruthless nature. He has thrice the number of Orbs, Trina. It is a matter of numbers.”

“Hm. Numbers only mean so much,” Trina said. “…But I do understand your sentiments.” She looked up. “…I must consider my options. You will arrive tomorrow to receive my decision. I will allow you to leave a personal Waypoint here so you may return easily.”

 Rhys knew that this was the best he was going to get. Considering Trina’s haughty nature, persisting any further would lower their chances. He was also getting sick of the web between his toes. “Very well. We thank you for the opportunity.” He bowed his head, and then turned to set up a waypoint near the wall of the inner chambers—though he made a conscious effort to keep away from the cocoons. He wondered if there was another Lucario somewhere in these chambers, sleeping away in Trina’s prison…. He wondered if it was enjoyable.

Rhys shook his head. Her influence was strong. He stopped in the middle of the chamber and held his badge up. He pressed his claw on the heart-shaped insignia twice in quick succession. It flashed. Then, Rhys lowered the Badge to the ground, and pressed once. The flash stopped. Waypoint registered, though only for this Badge. Rhys turned around. “We should go,” he said. “We will return tomorrow, Trina, in the morning. Is this agreeable?”

“It is,” said the Serperior.

In a flash of light, they were gone from Trina’s labyrinth, and returned to Hot Spot Cave. The mushrooms were glowing brightly, suggesting that it was twilight outside. Rhys shivered. “Goodness, what is that feeling?” he said. It quite warm in the labyrinth of Trina’s silken maze, but Hot Spot Cave was—freezing. The instant they returned, a wave of cold air brushed under his fur; every exhale let out a frosty cloud.

Mispy and Demitri huddled close; Manny rubbed his arms. What kind of cold could pierces their Mystic protections? Unreal.

Rhys looked to his right and saw a home where the rocks were encased in ice. An Aggron was sitting inside, also made of ice. He thought it was a statue before it started moving. She stepped outside to greet them.

“Hello. You are also Guardians?”

“Eh, jus’ me,” Manny said.

“Are those two giving you trouble? I shall freeze them,” said Step. Clouds of frost formed around her hands, and it looked like she was about to popsiclize Demitri and Mispy.

“N-no, that won’t be necessary!” Rhys quickly said. “They are—safe. Allies. Yes?”

“Allies. Of the Guardians? They are mutants.”

“Y-yes, friendly mutants,” Rhys assured her.

“…Your aura is of a Hunter,” Step said. “Perhaps I shall freeze you next.”

This was not a good day for Rhys.

Manny stepped forward this time, “Oy, lemme vouch fer ‘em, they’re fine. Yer from Frozen Oceanside? Zena, Willow, Adam, an’ Valle saved yeh?”

“My name is ADAM.”

“Oy, there they are!” Manny waved.

The group of four approached, with Willow atop Zena’s head. The Joltik hopped, “It’s okay, Step! These four are our friends! Oh! Rhys! I’m glad you came back!”

“Oh? It wasn’t as if I was leaving.”

“No, because, um—we have a friend who’s thawing out further in the caves!”

“A friend? Thawing out?”

“Yes,” Step said. “A Hunter approached me, and I froze him so he would not cause trouble. However, I was convinced that, perhaps, he is not so bad.”

“I… I see. This hunter—who—?” Rhys asked a bit hastily.

Step tilted her head. “An old friend of yours? He is known as Torkoal Eld—”

Rhys was gone in a blink; only a bit of his blue fur remained where he once stood.


	48. Holy Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and the others meet with the Poison Guardian and discuss her philosophy as one of the Trinity.

Owen didn’t know what it was like to slog through poisoned gunk until today. It was thicker than water, but not quite as thick as mud. It had a jelly-like feel to it in some parts, and a vague resemblance to the slime of Emily’s insides in others. Every move he made, he could feel it squishing between his toes, his thighs, pretty much any part of him below his belly. Electing to walk through this swamp was possibly the worst decision Owen had ever made.

Amia was on his shoulders, her thin frame squeezed between the two horns behind his head; Enet was on Gahi’s shoulders, legs wrapped carefully around his neck, awkwardly leaning to the side due to Gahi’s backwards-facing antennae. Her fluff interfered with them, inhibiting his hearing and other heightened senses.

“Nngh…” Enet complained. “You’re too thin. Can’t sit.”

“Oy, ain’t my fault I don’t got no shoulders,” Gahi said. “That’s jus’ how m’ body works.”

“It’s a little easier for me. Owen’s wings and shoulders are just enough for me to stay on.” Amia giggled.

“I want Owen!” Enet said. “You’re lighter! Gahi’s slow!”

“I’m _what_?” Gahi hissed.

“I—I think what Enet means,” Amia said delicately, “is that you have more trouble walking with someone on your shoulders. I think I’m lighter than Enet.”

“Meh…” Gahi said.

“Your bickering is tiring me out,” Jerry mumbled. “You, Charizard. Tilt me so I can look forward. I’m tired of your chin.”

“Oh—sorry,” Owen said. He tilted the Aerodactyl’s head. “You know, I never realized just how heavy a head can be… But maybe that’s just because of how strong your jaws are.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“I think so,” Owen said. “You guys are known for strong jaws, right?”

“Sure.”

Owen nodded.

“This place still gives me th’ creeps… An’ I don’t get why we ain’t meltin’ like this guy was.” Gahi looked at the Aerodactyl head. “I ain’t that dif’rent from him, terms o’ powers an’ auras. I mean, sure, I got super speed… an’ I’m artificial… but that… eh…”

“As far as I can tell, your aura should behave similarly to other normal auras, dear,” Amia said. “So, you’re right. I’m not sure why Jerry here was the only one who melted.”

“Maybe they don’t care for ancient Pokémon species,” Jerry muttered. “Ugh, I feel like I have a cramp in my neck.”

“Oh—sorry,” Owen said. “Here, let me just…” He carefully loosened the Pecha Scarf, but made sure it remained wrapped around him. “How’s that?”

“…Better. Thank you. Mmnh… And you’re sure you can return me to normal?”

“I have a few ideas, definitely,” Owen said. “too bad it’s still kinda hard to test it out while we’re here. Once we’re done with meeting the Guardian, we’ll see if Mipsy can help—that Chikorita, remember? Well, she evolved, too, and her healing powers are her specialty. And if not… maybe Emily?”

“Oh! So that’s your plan, is it?” Amia said. “You know, I think that just might do the trick.”

“Emily? Who’s she?”

“She’s a really, really good healer that we know about,” Owen said. “If anybody can restore your body, it’d be her, no matter how damaged it is.”

“Hmph. I’ll believe it when I have wings again. Hey, can she fix my back, too? I threw it out a long time ago. If I twist it funny, I can barely walk after for the whole day….”

“She should,” Owen said.

“Oh yeah? And how about the clicking I get on my left leg? Ever since I got in a scuffle with someone outside of a Dungeon, that leg has been bugging me if I bend my knee weird.”

“Probably.”

“What kind of miracle worker is this _Emily_?”

“Like I said, she’s a healer. If Mispy’s work doesn’t fix you, Emily’s definitely will.”

Jerry used his jaw to reposition himself slightly, and then turned his eye toward Owen. “Who are you?” he asked. “All of this. None of this is normal. You saved me by some miracle, and you’re saying some other miracle is going to fix all this damage. Why am I not screaming in pain? How am I talking? Is this some Fire Clan ancient art?”

“…Kinda?” Owen said.

“Um—Jerry, about that,” Amia said. “I really don’t… think that…”

“Save it,” Jerry said, closing his eyes. “I was upset. It’s… it’s not _entirely_ your fault. But I definitely could have become a Heart, if it wasn’t for failing that one test…”

“…Test?” Owen asked. “What test? The exams?”

“The preliminaries,” said Jerry. “Did you not take them? They were three tests in total, when I applied. The efficiency exam, the practical exam, and, _apparently_ , a hidden aptitude exam.”

“I did the first exam… and we went through test Missions for the practical… but an aptitude exam? What’s that?”

“The one I failed,” Jerry said. “…I scored the highest in the mock-Mission classes _and_ had the highest score among the incoming Heart candidates, and yet, I was rejected. James himself told me that I wouldn’t be advancing to the practical exams right before I’d’ve been given my assignment. _That_ is how I learned that Anam himself can veto any applicant’s approval, if he wants. And according to _him_ … I just wasn’t Heart material.” Jerry growled. “Anam singlehandedly put me in this life. If I ever see him again…!”

Owen thought back to Anam’s presence while he was assigned to that cold, thin-air cave in the mountains. He shivered slightly at the memory. The altitude was so bad he had some sort of hallucination of Nevren trying to kill him. It felt so _real_! He had no intention to go back there. But he also remembered Anam shaking his head at a few of the applicants. Was that the veto? He thought he was just judging their test scores….

“I—I’m sure he didn’t do it out of malice,” Owen said. “Anam’s one of the nicest Pokémon I know. Right?”

“He is, but… he _is_ a little eccentric. And childish…” Amia said.

“And slimy,” Enet said.

“Ehh, somethin’ about ‘m rubs me th’ wrong way,” Gahi said. “Nobody’s that nice fer no reason.”

“Well… at least his heart is in the right place,” the Gardevoir relented. “We should really focus more on what we’re walking toward. It’s starting to feel… more and more ominous. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “I think it’s the fog.”

“Smells awful…” Gahi mumbled. “Glad this Pecha Scarf’s keepin’ me safe, ’cause I think ’m gonna die if I take it off…”

The ooze ahead bubbled, giving the team pause. “Uhh,” Owen said. “I think… something’s there?”

From the sludge, a purple mass distinct from the rest rose. Owen gulped, “A-are… are you the Poison Guardian? Like… there’s maybe a 99 percent chance that we’re in the Poison Guardian’s abode at this point, so I just want to make sure for that last percent!”

A single eye formed in the center of the top of this mass of sludge, with a pupil that strongly reflected the light in the otherwise dim swamp, making the pupil appear white. Then, two more appeared just below and beside the original eye. This strange, sludge-made creature had an ill-defined shape, but from what Owen could make out, it had a neck almost as thick as its head, which blended into a large body that slid on the ground, through the sludge like it was water. A strange, upside-down-U-shaped mouth opened to speak. “Hello….”

Owen watched sludge fall from the open mouth; his voice was a mixture of a childish song and a gurgle.

After a silence of nobody responding, the Gastrodon went on. “You look… interesting.”

“Here’s ter you,” Gahi said with a wry smile. “You th’ Poison Guardian, Gastrodon?”

“No… But I _am_ the Poison Guardian’s bestie!”

“…Bestie.” Amia repeated. “Well, um—my name is Gardevoir Amia, and this is—”

“Oh, I know who you all are!” he said with what _may_ have been an attempt at a smile on his strange mouth. “And my name is Gastrodon Ano! I’m the lead spirit of the Poison Orb, under the rule of Guardian Altaria Ghrelle.”

“Altaria…” Owen repeated. “That’s a pretty interesting Pokémon to have control over an Orb, huh? But I guess it makes as much sense as _my_ Orb…” Which, Owen realized, would be completely useless in an environment like this. Why did Star want him to come to this one, again? Owen shook his head. “Can we speak to her, please? I know she’s part of the Trinity, but… I think it’d be okay to just talk, right?”

“Hmm…” Ano tilted his head to the left, and then his right. “I dunno… Ghrelle’s usually very busy… So many people like to come to this place, you know. And she has to make sure that nobody impure can get through!” Ano blinked. “Hey! How’d you get here?!”

“Sh-shouldn’t you have opened with that?!”

Ano giggled. “I guess I’m a little absentminded… But it felt really funny having others walk through my body!”

“E-excuse me?” Owen stared at the Gastrodon, but then realized how seamlessly its body blended into the sludge. Owen turned green, not due to his Orb, and said, “O-oh, you’re kidding,” he said.

“It’s okay! Lots of people are here.”

“I’m gonna… no offense, but I’ll just…” Owen focused—hard—and levitated above the sludge, creating an invisible platform to separate his feet from Ano’s _body_. He grabbed Gahi by the hand and pulled him onto the same platform.

“Thanks,” Gahi said. “When we get back, I’m gonna ask Rhys ter wipe this memory.”

“Don’t even joke about that…” Owen mumbled. “Um—A-Ano, if this is your whole body, wouldn’t that make _you_ the Guardian?”

“Oh! Well… I’m just possessing Ghrelle’s body. She likes to spend her time in the spirit world.” Ano closed his three eyes. “But if you want… I think she’d like to talk to you! Yeah! Okay. Hold on. Mmmmmmmm…!”

The sludge next to Ano bubbled and churned; out from it formed another pile, which, in turn, shaped itself into a melting, delicate figure, with great, cotton-like wings, a thin neck, and a small head. It was all purple, but the shape was unmistakable.

Unnerved, Owen could only say, “U-uh, Altaria… Ghrelle…?”

The Dragon-Flying Pokémon stared at Owen, right in the eyes. Even from their distance, Owen felt something electric shoot through his body, from his eyes to his feet. Owen couldn’t place it—why did Ghrelle make him feel so uneasy? He couldn’t feel anything from her body language that suggested malice. But he couldn’t feel anything that suggested benevolence, either. Wait…. He couldn’t feel _anything_ from her. Her body language was so perfectly masked that she had nothing for him to work off.

“Greetings,” the unreadable Guardian said.

“I don’t like you,” Enet growled. Her fur puffed out, making her look twice as large. Her eyes narrowed to slits against the Altaria.

Ghrelle looked at Enet with an amused glint in her eyes. “Electric Guardian Zoroark Enet,” she said. “Have you spoken at all with your spirits as of late? They are still watching, you know.”

“My spirits…?” Enet said.

“While you are simple at heart, you are also not a very good Guardian. You should consider giving your power up to someone worthier.”

Enet hissed and snapped her teeth at Ghrelle.

“H-hey, let’s not…” Owen paused. “W-wait, about that—Ghrelle! Uh—I think you melted Jerry. Can you turn him back?” He turned the Aerodactyl to face her.

“…Hmm, interesting,” said Ghrelle. “That isn’t my doing. Ano is the one who takes care of this forest.”

“Takes care, huh? That’s an… interesting way to phrase it,” Amia said. “There isn’t much of a forest left in this place, is there?”

“Hmm… Yes. I suppose here it is more a field.”

“…Field of… poison, you mean,” Owen said.

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean. This is known was the Swamp of Purity.”

“Um,” Amia raised her hand. “Ghrelle, if you know about Enet, and the rest of us, does that mean you’ve already considered joining our group in Hot Spot Cave? Because it would really help us out if, um… you know.”

“I have pondered your request,” Ghrelle said. “And I will have to refuse. There is no need for me to go with you while I have the blessings of the Great Creator, Arceus.”

“Okay, so, since we’re talking about that guy,” Owen said, “when you say blessings, do you mean that in a figurative way, or, um, literally, he blessed you with some sort of… protection spell?”

“…You don’t study on your psalms, do you?” Ghrelle said.

“My what?”

Ghrelle shook her head. “All is blessed by Arceus. That is simply how the world operates. So long as you follow His will, the right way will always be forward.”

“Oh, that’s, um, that’s good,” Owen said. “I think that’s… a good way to look at things, if it works for you. I think. Um, how old are you, again, Ghrelle?”

“It is rude to ask a lady her age,” Ghrelle said.

“Oh, quit being coy…” Owen crossed his arms.

“Hmph. Well. I have been here for a long while, as Arceus’ disciple. I am at least one thousand years old, though, if I must be honest, I have lost count a long time ago. I may be off by a few hundred. In this miasma, in this tropical climate, it can be difficult to track the days, let alone the seasons, as they pass.”

“I know a few folks who can relate to that,” Owen said. “That must mean you’re around the same age as Klent, or maybe a little older. Klent protected the Grass Orb for half a millennium or something… and after that, I spent… a few more centuries getting sane again…” Owen rubbed his head. “Wow… I think you’re the oldest Guardian I know.” Then again, he never asked the others how old they were.

“Hey, quit the chit-chat, you gonna turn me whole or not?” Jerry asked. “Getting kinda sick of laying around!”

“The sinner will remain _silent_ ,” Ghrelle hissed.

Owen felt like he’d been punched in the gut. For a split-second, Ghrelle had radiated some sort of power that came from her, and then reverberated off of the field of poison around him. Her aura was immense—he thought she had spread herself too thin to have any real impact on any one area, but that proved him wrong.

“What was that…?” Gahi mumbled, scratching his arm. “Felt like I got a bad case o’ scaleburn fer a sec…”

Amia was catching her breath. Enet’s ears shrank behind her head and her fur puffed up even more.

Owen looked down. The Pecha Scarf wrapped around what remained of Jerry’s neck was losing its Mystic glow…

“Gh-Ghrelle, hold on!” Owen said quickly. “It’s okay! Jerry will be quiet! Right?”

“Y-yeah… whatever…” Jerry said, feeling his neck liquefy. He knew his place. It seemed that despite it all, the Aerodactyl would rather lose his pride than his life.

The scarf slowly regained its glow. Owen sighed.

“…Why do you wish to save him?” Ghrelle said. “He is below you.”

“No, he’s not,” Owen said. “Sure, he made some wrong choices, but… he’s still a Pokémon. And I don’t think I have any right to judge someone, after all the mistakes I’ve made, and the… sure, the sins I’ve done. Bet you know about that, too, huh?”

“Your sins…” Ghrelle repeated. “Yes. I am aware of them. I am also aware that they are not truly your own, when you were designed by… one that is perhaps the most blasphemous of them all.”

Owen tapped his claws on his arm. “Wouldn’t that make me a demon? Or something?”

“Perhaps, in a way, you are one. But you are noble and climbed your way out of such a status. It is for that reason you were allowed to come this deep into my abode intact.”

“…What?” Owen said. “Wait—hang on. Is _that_ the difference between Jerry and us? The reason he melted and we didn’t?”

“Yes. Jerry has a dark heart. Therefore, Ano’s body rejected him, and he is destined to be absorbed into the Poison realm. You four… are much more redeemable, and therefore are worthy of the living.”

“B-but… but that’s completely arbitrary!” Owen said. “You can’t just judge if someone is good or bad! There’s no _metric_ for that! So, you just decide if someone’s worth melting or not? Is that it?”

“Yes. My judgement is what decides the worthiness of a soul. I have final say in their fate.” Ghrelle stared. “…Star was wise to send you four. While nobody can be truly perfect, you are all pure in your intentions, and lack doubt in your goals. Except for you, Owen… but that much is understandable. You are at a crossroads that nobody else will face. Perhaps, if in your scales, even I would have my doubts.”

“I don’t… know what you mean,” Owen said flatly.

“Your power, Owen,” Ghrelle said. “And your unique position in this world. You have an Orb, and you _also_ are a Synthetic Pokémon. Never intended to possess this divine power, and yet here you are. And most importantly… you have not decided on who you wish to align with. You do not know what to do with this power, do you?”

“Of course not!” Owen said. “I mean—well, I kinda do. I want to use this power to help others. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do—to fight, yeah, but also to use that fighting to be good. Fight bad guys.”

Jerry grumbled something unintelligible.

“I… I guess in a way, it’s what Anam did with his power, don’t you think? He’s one of the strongest Guardians I know, and he made the entire Thousand Heart Association.”

Ghrelle’s eyes flashed at the mention. “Anam…” she said. “I cannot fault him for his intentions. But he is a bit… shortsighted, in the end. His ambition will ultimately prove fruitless.”

“Fruitless…?” Owen said. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Ghrelle said. “You are holding an example.”

“Holding?” Owen looked down. “…Jerry?”

“Anam is a naïve Pokémon who happened upon great power,” Jerry said. “He thinks that the world is happy and everybody can be happy together. But that just isn’t how the world works, Owen. Pokémon are different. We fight. Some are lazy. Some take advantage of the kindness of others. That’s just… how things are.”

“How they are, currently, yes,” Ghrelle said. “It is in your nature to be selfish. Ultimately, a sane mind would only do things because you enjoy them, or because you need to do them. Owen, how do you reconcile the fact that not all Pokémon can truly get all that they want, yet will continue to fight for it?”

The Charizard’s eye ridges furrowed with uncertainty. “What…?” Owen said. “I mean… what do you mean?”

“Well. A simple example,” Ghrelle said, raising a wing. “There are only a thousand positions in the Association at any given time. It is to accommodate for the size of the world, small as it may be, to rescue all the Pokémon that are in trouble. A constant force to maintain order. Yet, many Pokémon desire that position, do they not?”

“Yeah, because who wouldn’t want to help others?”

“The pay’s pretty good, too,” Jerry mumbled.

“The pay?” Owen said. “Oh—yeah, I guess it does pay a lot…. We need a lot of money to keep our supplies at their best. And I guess all the extra is to help us feel secure and help out at home….”

Ghrelle looked at Jerry. “How is your home life, Aerodactyl?”

“…Tch.”

“I—I mean, he’s an Outlaw,” Owen said dismissively. “He didn’t want to work the normal way, so of course it wouldn’t be that good, right? I—I mean… Jerry, you could’ve turned your life around!”

“He could have, certainly,” Ghrelle said. “With hard work to claw his way from the bottom. Because in the end, his family line was one that could never quite get out of their position.”

“How do you know all this?” Jerry said.

Ghrelle chuckled. “Well, how else am I to judge a soul?” she asked. “…Jerry, your family was put in their position many generations ago by the so-called Fire Clan. Is that what you were told?”

“Yeah. Is that true? D’you somehow know that?”

“The Fire Clan… is a fabrication,” said Ghrelle. “But the group in question does exist. Amia, you are the latest in that line, correct? And the longest-lived.” The edge of her mouth where poison flesh met beak smirked. “To preserve sanity, the Fire Orb was passed from parent to child. Amia, you never bore children of any kind, and had no plan to.” She looked at the Gardevoir, still atop her son’s shoulders. “…And then Owen came along…. Indeed, you planned to grant Owen the Fire Orb, did you not?”

“M-mom?” Owen said. “You… you would’ve had me kill you?!”

“N-no! It’s… it’s not… like that,” Amia said. “It’s… it’s not killing, when we’ve already lived for so long, don’t you think? And—and I wasn’t going to do it until you were sane, like you are now. Oh, Owen…!”

“You wouldn’t have told me… and then you’d’ve made me be all alone! Is—is that what…?”

“No, no! It isn’t like that at all! If you didn’t want it, I would’ve… just… continued to wait.”

“Hey, buddy, watch those claws,” Jerry muttered.

“S-sorry,” Owen said, loosening his grip. “…Mom… I mean… I guess that makes sense, but… you could’ve…! I mean… I guess you probably couldn’t have told me. That would’ve opened up a whole new set of questions….”

Amia nodded. “I’m sorry, Owen. In all that’s been happening, I forgot to tell you. And since you already have an Orb…. I guess I have to start looking again!” she laughed. “But… I think I might be the last of the Fire Clan, as we’re called. Oh… Ghrelle, what about that? How did my family…?”

“Amia’s ancestor,” Ghrelle said, “was a close friend of Anam, long ago. This was _before_ he acquired the Ghost Orb, when Anam was the leader of the Ten Hearts. I do not know the full story of this… as I never interacted with Anam before to see his side… but as the story goes, Jerry’s ancestor fended for himself some time ago. And as part of that, in the savage world at the time, they had to do some… _less than desirable_ things to stay alive.

“And during one of those times, it happened to be an attack on Anam’s friend, Amia’s ancestor. News came, Anam encountered this ancestor… and they were apprehended. Skip ahead to when the Thousand Heart Association was at its infancy… when recruiting, the son of that ancestor joins. Anam remembers the parents’ actions… and refuses him entry, despite their qualifications.”

“It can’t be that simple. Anam can’t hold a grudge! He’s… he just doesn’t seem like the sort of person to do that,” Owen said.

“I am only explaining Jerry’s perspective,” Ghrelle said. “He comes from a long line of… rejected Heart candidates. With little other talents, and no mobility to get more education to become skilled otherwise… they are trapped searching for scraps, and living off of this ever-shrinking land.”

“Ever-shrinking?” Owen said.

“Figuratively speaking. With the Thousand Heart Association’s influence, the population of civilized Pokémon is booming; Wild Pokémon are declining; yet the world remains the same size. Do you see the problem…?”

“If you aren’t a Heart,” Jerry said, “or you aren’t related to one… you have to work, and work, and work, just to live, until you’re too weak to work anymore. Then you sit, rot, and die. Alternatively, you have to live like a feral, and hope that the chaotic Dungeon life will give you better luck. Sounds great, huh?” Jerry’s toothy grin was painfully wide. “I’ll _pass_.”

“Then… then his whole thing is justified!” Gahi said. “No offense ter yeh, Amia, but—he got th’ raw end o’ th’ deal, y’know? So how come he melted, if it ain’t any o’ his fault?”

“He is still weak-willed and blames the world for his faults. He could easily improve on his situation if he took the opportunities granted to him by Anam. He said it himself… he shall _pass_.”

Jerry winced but had no counter.

Gahi’s fists were clenched tight, though. Owen knew that this wouldn’t be enough of an explanation for the Flygon.

“You four, meanwhile, are diligent enough to do the right thing, even if that is not always the easiest path. That is the true, godly path.”

“Okay…” Owen said. “But… can you turn him back?”

“It seems that Synthetics are also very narrow-minded,” said Ghrelle in a growl. “Did any of my words register with you?”

“I mean, sure, but Jerry’s still just a head,” Owen said.

“What do you even care about me for?” Jerry muttered. “You heard her, I’m just some sinner, and you’re a godly path-walking soul or whatever. You’re above me.”

“I… I don’t think I am,” Owen said.

“Pbbt…”

“And you’re not going to come with us, either, huh?” Owen asked Ghrelle.

“There is no need. I have Arceus’ blessing and require nothing more to be safe here. Like Brandon that you’ve met before, I am satisfied.”

“Brandon…” Owen said. “Hey! Were you human, too?”

“Yes,” Ghrelle said. “A Pokémon that used to be human… how interesting, don’t you think?” The Altaria churred a soft tune that made Owen’s spine feel like ice. “Perhaps you should ask about that sort of thing more often.”

“Eh?” Enet said.

“Yeah, what she said,” Gahi said. “What’re yeh gettin’ at, ask more?”

Ghrelle closed her tiny eyes. “There is still a lot that you don’t know, Charizard. And I believe you know this. The more you ask questions… the clearer the sky and the stars will be. Perhaps then you will make your choice. And I _do_ hope you make the correct one.”

Owen gulped. “Y-yeah… thanks.” He glanced at Amia above him, but then looked at Gahi and Enet. “I guess we should get going. Uh—if you aren’t going to heal Jerry, we’re just going to take him with us, okay?”

“I won’t stop you,” Ghrelle said. “But don’t forget about his sins.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” Owen said. He held Jerry with his right arm and dug through his bag with his free hand. He found the Badge and gave a little nod to Ghrelle. “I’ll, uh, try to keep in touch?” Owen wasn’t sure if he would. He then thrust the badge in the air, and then they were gone.

Ghrelle sat in the silence of the poisoned forest. She churred again. “What a unique position to be in. Torn between all sides, courted by each. All because he refuses to make a Promise….” She chuckled lowly. “It’s no wonder he’s considered the smart one. He countered my power…”

Ghrelle then turned her head slowly to the skies and outstretched her wings. What little light came through the fog glistened on her wet, purple form. “O Lord, Arceus, I trust that You have watched our exchange. I humbly request passage into Your divine realm so we may discuss this personally, and so I may bask in Your radiant presence. This is my prayer to You.”

Nothing answered Ghrelle in the physical realm. But the way her beak twitched after a long silence, and the way the poison around her churned, she received her answer. The poisoned Altaria slowly descended into the muck, and silence ruled the swamp once more.


	49. Overconfident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody (sans Anam and Nevren) regroups at Hot Spot Cave, where they speak about their next steps. Jerry challenges Owen to a duel.

Owen, Gahi, Enet, and Amia all returned from the Poison Guardian’s realm. They smelled of the stuff, but thankfully didn’t take much of it with them.

“Brr—what a cold draft,” Amia said, rubbing her arms. “I don’t think Hot Spot Cave should quite feel like this…!”

Amia held her hand forward and summoned Alex next, who immediately rubbed his cannons together. “M-more like Cold Spot Cave,” he commented.

Owen looked back. “Hey, dad. I hope, uh, I hope you weren’t too scared back there.”

“S-scared? Why would I be scared?” Alex said with a light titter. “I’m… I’m a Magmortar. I’m quite scary…”

Amia giggled, rubbing his flaming shoulder. “Oh, dear, you were trembling in the Fire Orb. You aren’t very good with cold personalities like Ghrelle.”

“I—I suppose so…” Alex slumped. “S-speaking of cold, though…”

“Y-yeah, what’s goin’ on…?” Gahi mumbled, pressing against Owen’s much warmer, fiery body.

Enet shrugged and smoothed out her fur, glad to finally be out of the swamp. She sniffed the air—doing her best to ignore the lingering stench—and said, “I smell… two. New.”

“Two new smells?” asked Owen. “Oh—that must be the two Guardians the others got!” At least the others were able to recover their Guardians. Still, that meant they were the only ones who failed this time…. Not that Owen was expecting it to work out. The Poison Guardian was part of the Trinity. In hindsight, he could have been seriously hurt if he wasn’t careful. But Star was confident that he’d’ve been fine. He was glad that she was right.

Owen concentrated to feel where everyone was. Most of them were concentrated near Rhys’ home across the caves, so he walked. Enet, Amia, Alex, and Gahi followed.

“Hello?” Owen said, peering inside. “What’s going on?”

“Hey! You’re back!” Willow said, hopping off of Valle and onto Owen. Reflexively, the Charizard held his hands out, catching the tiny Joltik in midair. “Eww—you smell!”

“S-sorry, I think that’ll wear off. We had to slog through a giant swamp of poison, so we kinda had that get stuck everywhere. I might just hop in the lava to clean up…” Owen looked back.

“Yeah, well, I can’t do that,” Gahi said.

“We could fuse, and then I could do it,” Owen offered. “Pretty sure I can handle the lava even if you’re half of me.”

Gahi looked tempted.

“How about me?” Enet asked.

“Uhh… lots of water,” Owen said. There was still gunk on Enet’s feet where they had dipped into the poison, and her fluffy body absorbed a _lot_ of the stench. There was no escaping Enet’s particularly horrible odor.

“Hey, how about me?” Jerry spoke up. “I’m still just a head! You gonna fix that, ‘Zard?”

“Uhh—y-yeah. Actually, hold on. Let me find Mispy…” He spotted the mutant Meganium and waved her down.

Her many tendrils dragged the rest of her body toward them, squeezing out of the exit by contorting and bending the many vines to fit through.

“Wh-what’s _that_ thing?!” Jerry said. “No way! Nu-uh, those tentacles aren’t going anywhere _near_ me, you hear?”

“B-but, Jerry, this is how we’re gonna heal you!” Owen said. “Trust me. Mispy’s a great healer, okay? Just… can you be gentle with him?”

The Meganium inspected Jerry’s head curiously, prodding at his cheek. He growled and tried to bite at a vine. She flinched away and glared, wrapping a vine around his muzzle. He grunted but was helpless.

“Hmph.” Mispy pulled him close and closed her eyes, channeling energy and matter into him. Owen watched closely, as did the others.

“What… happened to him?” Demitri said. “Why is he… a head? That’s kinda…”

“We, er….” Alex knocked his arms together in thought, “Had some complications.”

Owen nodded. “The Poison Guardian melted him somehow. It didn’t work on us—not even Gahi—but it did for him. And so, he, er… that happened. But I was able to stop it with my Pecha Scarf, and… I think some Mystic energy, too. That’s why he’s not totally melted.”

“How awful…” Zena said. “What a horrible way to…!”

“I don’t need your pity,” Jerry grumbled, but then glanced at Zena. “…B-but… thank you anyway. I’m just fine. Didn’t even hurt.”

“So, er, what’s going on here, anyway?” Amia asked, addressing how everybody was crammed into this small alcove, spilling out into the area just outside the home. “You, um…” She peered inside the next room and saw two new faces. One was Step, the Ice Aggron—quite obvious which one she was—and the other was— “Oh! Are you another Guardian? The… Bug Guardian?”

“Oho, no, not at all,” the Torkoal replied. “No. My name is Torkoal Elder—I’m glad to meet you, ahh… Gardevoir Amia, yes?”

“Yes!” Amia gave a little bow. She observed that Rhys was sitting right up to Elder, practically up against his shell. “Rhys? Do you know him?”

“Y-yes, I’m… familiar,” Rhys said. “Elder. He’s… he’s one of the Hunters—b-but, there’s no need to be alarmed! He isn’t… a fighter.”

“Ahh, yes. That much has not changed,” Elder said with a rough laugh. “I was never truly that good at fighting. I just don’t have the mindset for it.”

“Elder…” Owen grinned. He took a few tentative steps at first, but then made a half-jog for the thawed Pokémon. “I missed you! I—I forgot you for a while, but now that I look back…!” He plopped down in front of him with his knees bent, feet swaying in opposite directions, rhythmically in the air. “Tell me a story!” The flame on his tail glowed a bit brighter, and his wings were tucked behind him neatly.

“O-Owen!” Amia flinched, exchanging a look with Alex. She’d never seen him regress so quickly. “Elder—did you raise Owen?”

“Ahh, I suppose I did. Not just Owen, of course.”

“Heh, yeah, you raised all o’ us, Gramps,” Gahi said. “All th’ Hunters did… ev’n Rim…”

“Y-yeah…” Owen’s enthusiasm faltered, but then he looked at Elder again. “H-how is everyone? Rim, she… is she a bad guy, now…?”

“Owen…” Elder said softly. “Some things are… more complicated than black and white.”

“I—I know, but… Rim has been… you know….” Owen thought about their chess game. She seemed happier during that. Was she happy when she was killing Guardians, too… or was that just a duty she had to uphold? Did she _want_ that? Even if she didn’t—she still killed Cara and Forrest. And nearly killed him, too, before he became a Guardian! Or… or was that just trying to scare him away? She only wanted the Orb, not his life….

“I’m not really sure what to say about Rim,” Elder said, breaking Owen’s trance. “She is still fiercely loyal toward Eon, of course. But beyond that… I’m sure even she has some doubts about whether he has gone too far or not. That, perhaps… the means that Eon is willing to take to gather the Orbs… has no longer justified the end goal.”

“What’s the end goal?” Owen asked. “To usurp Arceus, right? Because… Star wanted to do that, originally. Right?”

“Yes,” Elder said. “Star was not happy with Arceus and the way he is leading the world—or, perhaps more appropriately, _not_ leading it. Star misses mingling with mortals. And Arceus won’t let her.”

“Sounds kinda petty,” Owen said. “Why can’t she visit?”

Elder winced. “It is… not my place to say. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Okay,” Owen’s wings drooped, and his legs went back to the ground. “But, does that mean… what Eon’s doing might be worth it?”

“Owen…!” Amia said.

The fire on Alex’s shoulders flared up with anxiety, and despite being a spirit, his belly growled with a rapidly forming ulcer.

Owen flinched at the sudden change in atmosphere. Almost everyone looked surprised, or upset, or even hurt at that one. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean it like, Eon’s being a good guy, just—what’s he actually _trying_ to do? He wants to usurp Arceus himself, right? What would he do with that? What does he want to _do_ that Arceus won’t?”

Elder sighed. “…I’m afraid I cannot say,” he said.

“Why?” Owen asked.

Elder smiled sadly. “Because I already told you, and you all forgot.”

Owen’s tail sparked irritably. “You mean it’s another one of those divine decrees. Like who Emily is. We can’t know, because Arceus made it that way.”

Elder nodded. “But if you become stronger… perhaps you can overpower the decree. All of you, together, may have enough to defy it. Arceus’ sphere of influence is wide, but it is not omnipotent.”

“Hmph… That’s dumb,” Owen complained, flicking his tail, knocking against Gahi. “Oh—sorry.”

Gahi grumbled and sat next to Owen, crossing his legs. He curled his tail around and inspected the fan at the tip; Zena, curious, slithered toward Owen and coiled in a neat pile on the opposite side.

The Milotic spoke, “Elder… I remember seeing you before. My spirits scared you off, but… Had you seen me, what would you have…?”

“Ah… The Water Guardian. That was quite a while ago, wasn’t it? Oho… it has been some time, yes. The past few weeks have been quite a rush, in particular.”

Owen nodded; Amia and Zena, as well as a few others, seemed confused.

“I’m sorry?” Amia asked. “A… week. What is a week?”

“Seven days,” Owen said.

“That’s an odd measure of time,” Amia said. “How does that measure compared to seasons and moons? Years?”

“Years…” Elder repeated with a slight smile. “A season is a fourth of a year, yes?”

“Mhm. But weeks. I’ve never heard that measurement before! How odd!” Amia said.

Alex nodded along. “Is that another one of Nevren’s inventions?”

“Yeah, actually!” Owen said. “Nevren gave funny names to seven days, and they always repeat. And each one ends with ‘day,’ but I forget what they’re all called. I think it was Mon, Tues—"

“They get it, Owen,” Gahi muttered, elbowing him.

“No, I don’t get it,” Zena said, suddenly fixated on Owen. “Please, go on. What are these days for? What does it mean? I… I feel as if I’d heard such things before, long ago! But then, they must have faded with time…. Some ancient terminology?”

“Oh, uh,” Owen looked at Zena. “I mean… it’s kinda hard to explain it like that, but… if you have a week, you can split up your routine a little better, I think. So, on Saturdays and Sundays—those are called the _week-ends_ , you know? Because they were at the beginning and end of the week, so, uh, I guess those are the days you take breaks?” Owen was unnerved at how wide Zena’s eyes were, like she was learning something completely unfathomable. A whole world of organization.

He scanned the crowd and saw the faces of the others. Zena wasn’t the only one. Willow was sparking with curiosity; ADAM was buzzing, his core processors overclocking to implement this new data. Even Step, the newest Guardian, tilted her head with fascination.

“Is this all so new to you guys? I know I just got my memories back, but I dunno. It seems kinda fundamental to me,” Owen said.

“Well, we never really talked ‘bout weeks befer now,” Gahi said. “Weird. You’d think Nev would mention it ter Anam er somethin’. Say, that means y’guys don’t know what a _month_ is, either, eh?”

“A month!” Zena exclaimed. “I do not. Is that—two weeks?”

“No, that’s a fortnight,” Owen said.

“A fortnight…” Zena said. “Why so many terms? I don’t understand. Wouldn’t just tracking the moon and the seasons be enough?”

“I guess so, but maybe you want to do something that takes a certain number of days, and those days are longer than just a few, y’know? Say… ninety days. That’s about a season, but it’s hard to keep track all the way up to ninety, right?” Owen rubbed his chin. He grunted and repositioned himself to a sitting position, clutching his tail out of habit.

Elder smiled, but then looked at Rhys. He gave the Lucario an affectionate nudge. “Owen hasn’t changed much,” he said. “Though… he _does_ seem more…”

“Subdued?” Rhys said.

Elder chuckled. “Mature, Rhys,” he said. “He’s still quite… chipper, regardless.”

“Ah. Well. Being a Guardian tends to force you to grow up. He’s quite overdue, don’t you think?” Rhys said.

Owen was busy explaining to Zena and the others the idea of a month, and how there were twelve unique ones throughout a year. The group was relieved to know that something familiar to them—a year—still existed in this strange measurement.

“Where’d Nevren learn it all?” Amia said. “There are lots of Alakazam out there, but Nevren seems to know more than all of them combined.”

“I dunno. But he’s also a Hunter, so… I guess that means he had a lot of time to fill that brain of his with all those theories, y’know?”

“Heh.” Manny looked off. “Real interestin’ system.”

Owen glanced at Manny. “What’s wrong? You don’t seem as interested….”

“Eh? Ahh, it’s time, who cares,” Manny shrugged. “Cool system, though.”

“Hm…” Owen shrugged. “Well, if you guys think _that’s_ cool, wait until I tell you guys about calculus!”

It was at this moment that Mispy, Demitri, and Gahi checked out. Their expressions glossed over into empty stares in a matter of milliseconds.

Owen snorted. “It’s _not_ boring. Here, let me show you how you can use it, okay?”

And Owen did. Thoroughly. He talked about the value of derivatives and integrals, what Owen considered to be the very base of his favorite sort of math. He raved about its applications in fighting, even for something as simple as throwing an object a certain way, to hit a certain point. Velocities and accelerations—forward forces and hindering friction. He talked about how he tried to use those calculations combined with his perception to read the trajectories of even tiny objects in the air to use them to his advantage. The more Owen talked, the more even the most enthusiastic of the learners, Zena, started to lose interest. Enet was half-asleep. Alex struggled to maintain his smile.

“I got rescued by a total loser,” Jerry muttered.

“Am not!” Owen said defensively. “This is really important! You’ll see! N-Nevren always said that knowledge is power!”

“Owen uses big words,” Enet mumbled, blinking herself awake.

“I’m with you there,” said another voice.

Owen swiveled his head. “Star?”

“Yo.” She waved, floating out from behind Zena. “Sorry, uh, I heard there was a get-together. Didn’t wanna miss out. Asked Manny to summon me.”

“Heh,” Manny flicked a bit of dirt off his claw. The others gave little greetings to Star, nodding or saying hello, and the Mew took the time to mingle with all the others. Jerry eyed Star with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, is nobody gonna acknowledge this?” Jerry mumbled to Owen.

“Acknowledge what?”

“That’s—that’s _Mew_ isn’t it? Aren’t they incredibly rare?”

“Oh—y-yeah, she is. But we all kinda know her at this point, so…. It’s not like we’re gonna revere her or anything.”

“Wait. Revere? What kind of—which Mew _is_ she?”

“She, uh… she’s Creator Mew Star. The Great Ancestor? Uhh… I dunno what other titles she has. But she’s that Mew.”

Jerry stared at her again. “Shouldn’t she be dead? Or do Mew not…?”

“She lives in the spirit world,” Owen said. “Uh. I guess that’s living….”

“Oh—and you!” Star said, floating toward him. “Sorry—yes, I’m Mew Star. I’m sorry that this happened to you, Aerodactyl…. Jerry, right?”

“Yeah,” Jerry said.

“So, eh…” Manny spoke up, raising a paw, “what’s up with the guy, Star?”

“Jerry? Yeah, uh…” Star crossed her arms pensively. The Mew hummed in thought and checked the base of Jerry’s neck, where flesh was still partially melted into poison grime. “Basically, the poison in Dark Mist Swamp only affects Pokémon that Ghrelle considers… impure. It’s kinda subjective, but if she senses that you’re weak-willed, or someone prone to darkness in some way, you’ll melt into the swamp. And if you’re a little more upstanding… you’ll not melt.”

“W-wait, so Ghrelle was _judging_ us?” Owen said.

“What righ’ does she have ter do that?” Gahi said.

“What’s a darkness?” Enet said, poking her chest. “I’m Dark.”

“No, that’s—no, Enet, it’s more… uh…” Star puffed out a breath if confusion. “Wow, how _do_ you explain this…?”

“Hey, wait a second,” Owen said. “Why didn’t you let Rhys go, then? He’s totally noble!”

“Owen, he used to try to kill Guardians,” Star said. “Not exactly a sin you can wash away that easily. Especially in a Guardian’s eyes, like Ghrelle.”

Zena nodded.

“O-oh…” Owen said. He scanned the room, thinking about those that Star said wouldn’t be good to meet Ghrelle. Manny and Willow were the other ones that Star had explicitly denied. He could understand Willow. She was a bit uppity, and that sort of attitude probably wouldn’t bode well with Ghrelle. And Manny, well… perhaps he was too….

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Manny said.

“N-nothing,” Owen said.

Manny looked at Owen for a bit longer, but then turned away. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said.

“O-oh.” So, Manny himself knew why. “Okay.” Maybe it had to do with how he killed all those mutants, even if they were part of his Orb, now.

Star nodded. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure about Ghrelle’s judgement. It’s similar to Barky—er, to Arceus’ philosophy, and since she’s part of the Trinity, that kinda makes sense.

“Is Ghrelle super strong?” Enet asked.

“Hey, you’re getting better at using your words, Enet,” Star said. “Is your, uh, language therapy coming back to you?”

“Therapy…” Enet repeated. Owen practically _smelled_ her brain working to find the definition. “…Yes!”

“That’s great, Enet. But yeah,” Star said. “Ghrelle’s tough. I don’t know how strong she is because she doesn’t fight in the traditional sense, but she’s up there. It’s just a feeling, you know?”

“So that means we only have the Dragon Guardian that we don’t know about,” Owen said. His tail swayed slowly behind him, and he adjusted his wings to get an itch on his back. “…Oh! How’d the Bug Guardian go?”

“Er, we are still… pending on those results,” Rhys said.

“She was cool,” Mispy said.

“And we met us!” Demitri said. “That was cool! I think…. To be honest, I’m starting to feel a little weird about it, but…”

“Back up,” Owen said, holding his claws in the air. “You met yourselves? What?”

“Are you guys all just crazy?” Jerry asked.

Mispy glared down.

“Hey, Vines! Keep the healing going!” At this point, Jerry was a head and torso.

“I’ll eat you,” Mispy growled, staring down at him.

“E-eh…” Jerry looked away. “Whatever. How come this is taking so long, anyway?”

“Yeah, Mispy, is something wrong?” Owen asked, hoping to diffuse her anger. He wasn’t sure if she was serious or not about turning Jerry into lunch. Mispy always was a little odd in the head…. He wondered what Demitri saw in her.

Mispy inspected Jerry’s torso, leaning over to get a better look at what was developing. She gently prodded at one of the organs.

“Hrk—what’re you doing? Don’t do that. That’s weird. What are—”

Mispy adjusted one of his lungs, but then furrowed her scaly brow. “It’s not…” she said, but then briefly stopped her healing. She watched his body slowly turn purple, melting away again. She quickly resumed the healing.

“Wh-whoa, whoa, what was that?! Why’d everything feel warm? Hello? I can’t see past your stupid—Someone, tilt my head!”

“It’s—it’s okay,” Mispy said, but then shook her head at the others. It wasn’t okay.

“Ghrelle’s influence is still there,” Owen said worriedly.

“Ghrelle…” Elder said slowly. “Ooh… she is a _scary_ one. Even if I may be pure enough for her swamp, I would not want to go there. The Trinity in general is quite… formidable. Her Mystic power must already be implanted within Jerry. It would take a lot of power to counter it.”

“Power, huh…” Owen said, but then flicked his head upward. “Mispy!”

“Y-yes?” Mispy asked.

“Let’s fuse!”

“Wh-what?!”

Gahi looked, for just a moment, betrayed, but then he said, “What’re yeh gettin’ at?”

“If I fuse with Mispy, maybe I’ll get a little Mystic power to enhance her natural healing abilities. What if those two things combined can counter Ghrelle?”

“Ahh, that may work, depending on how strong you are, Owen,” Elder said. “Yes! Do try it.”

“W-will your auras be stable enough?” Demitri asked, grabbing one of Mispy’s vines, fiddling with it. “I—I mean…”

A few more of the vines wrapped around Demitri gently, one patting his head. Mispy then looked at Owen and nodded. “Let’s try,” she said.

“Okay,” Owen said, standing up. Mispy’s many vines writhed and crawled toward Owen—he couldn’t shake the unnerving image—and he stood there, awkwardly. He glanced around. “Can you guys, maybe… not stare?” he asked.

“Eh? No way, I wanna see this,” Manny remarked.

“I’m a bit curious as well,” Zena admitted.

“What’s wrong?” Enet asked.

“It’s… it’s personal…” Owen said.

Gahi glanced off. “Feh. It’s jus’ somethin’ we do. Jus’ do it.”

Alex turned around and closed his eyes. Amia smiled at Owen and did the same. Rhys turned his head, too, but the rest were too curious to not look.

Owen shifted awkwardly, but then wondered if his fire would make Mispy uncomfortable. Probably, especially if it had been a while—a _long_ while—since they last fused in the first place. He decided to make things easier. His scales turned green and leafy, and the flame on his tail went out; in its place, a great, white flower sprouted. He wasn’t sure what felt worse—everyone marveling at the flower, or everyone watching him fuse.

Demitri shifted his weight again. “Wait, so, can I fuse, too?” he asked.

“E-er, let’s not have a three-unit fusion just yet,” Rhys said. “We should practice with two at a time first, before we push your auras further. Just in case.”

“Oh—o-okay. Just him and Mispy, then…” Demitri nodded.

“It’s fine,” Mispy assured Demitri with a little nudge. Then, she wrapped a vine around Owen—who squeaked in surprise—and pulled him into her matrix of vines. His body was lost to it almost immediately, and after some shuffling, the creature’s colors changed to a slightly darker green. The flower around her neck turned white, and wings—useless on her heavy body—sprouted. Two horns grew from the back of her skull, and the transformation was complete.

“Uh…” Demitri said slowly. “How’re you guys, uh… feeling?”

The Meganium-Charizard fusion took a steady breath. Then, she exhaled. “…I feel… okay,” she said. “That wasn’t so bad….”

“…What’s wrong with you guys?” Jerry asked, rolling his head to get a better look at the group. His voice steadily rose. “You guys just stand there and act like it’s normal? What kind of nightmare is this?! I want out! Wake me up! Is this some kinda fever dream before I die? Get it over with! I’m done! You’re all nuts!”

“You,” the fusion picked Jerry up with a vine, wrapping it around his muzzle, “need to be quiet.”

“Mnnfff…” Jerry said.

“Let me heal you.” And so, she closed her eyes and concentrated, channeling both Mystic and healing energy through the quarter-Aerodactyl.

The spectacle over, everyone settled back down to chat amongst themselves. Willow scuttled toward a few of the vines and hopped onto the nearest one. “Um…” she said.

“Willow?”

“What’s… your name?”

“My name…”

“Yeah. Owen and Gahi made Gawen. So, Owen and Mispy make…?”

“Hmm…” Pensively, she hummed. As the first time they ever fused, they never really thought of a name for themselves. And the idea of thinking of names for all the possible combinations sounded tiring. Owen’s half quickly calculated that if they were to find the names for all the fusions, they’d have to keep track of eleven different fusion names!

“I don’t care,” the fusion eventually shrugged. “Too tiring.”

“I’m gonna call you Omi!” Willow said.

“Oh,” Omi said. “Okay.”

“Do you not like it?” Zena asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Omi nodded. “I just… don’t know if I’ll use it a lot.”

“Oh, is it because the Mispy half likes sticking to Demitri all the time?”

Omi and Demitri blushed. Gahi snorted and smirked. “Sounds about righ’. They’re jus’ doin’ this ‘cause they gotta.”

Jerry, resigned to his fate, tried to wiggle his wings. He was surprised when he actually got feedback, and he turned his head to see the bones and muscle being wrapped in skin and scales. “It’s—it’s actually working,” he said.

“Hey! We didn’t have to go see Emily after all!” Amia said.

“Emily? Who’s she, some master healer?” Jerry asked, sitting up once he had a bottom to sit on.

“Um… yes!” Amia said.

“Could we see her anyway?” Zena asked. “Perhaps… just to be sure that Jerry is okay.”

“Ohh, Zena, we should see if we can’t get Anam to spare an official Waypoint tile for there so we don’t need to use our Badges,” Amia said. “Hmm, speaking of Anam…”

“I’m kinda starting to get worried,” Star admitted. “Maybe we should fly over and see what’s the holdup? Between his agitated spirits and how long he’s been taking, I dunno….”

“Agitated spirits…. Is that possible?” Amia said.

“Not usually,” Star said. “Spirits are pretty happy following their host’s desires most of the time. So, them acting up the way they are is… kinda strange to begin with. I…” she paused. “I dunno. Anyway, if everything’s fine here, Jerry, how about we—”

“Wait,” Jerry said. He turned completely so he was facing Star. “Before you go, can I ask something? To you. Mew. Are you…?”

“Oh, sure, shoot,” Star said. “Am I what?”

“…I never heard of you before, not specifically. But apparently, you’re the great ancestor. And you… you have other connections, too, right?” Jerry stared at Star.

“Uh, yeah, that’s true.” She flicked her tail around and inspected the very tip. “Why d’you ask, Jer?”

Jerry’s jaw locked in a tight, closed position. He remained that way for what felt like an eternity. Willow sparked a few times to break the otherwise total silence; Enet dozed off again. Amia gently held her chest, as if sensing something from Jerry; Owen felt it, too. He didn’t want to feel it for long; the way Jerry’s new body’s heart was beating so frantically, it was like he was afraid of Star, or something that Star would say.

Star’s eyes softened. “She’s fine,” she said. “And she wants you to stay strong.”

Jerry’s jaw finally unlocked. “Alright, then.” He hadn’t even paused after Star finished.

Owen’s half never felt such a strange reaction from Jerry’s breathing. Perhaps it was because he had lungs now, but the relief that she felt billowing out of that breath…. “Jerry?” she asked.

“What?”

“…Nothing. Um—so how are you feeling?”

Tentatively, the Aerodactyl moved his wings. Then, he flicked his tail and stretched his legs. “Mrrgh, that’s actually a lot better,” he said. He nodded at Omi and then stepped away. There was a flash of a glare in his eyes, and then he looked back at Star. Then, back at Omi. “Stay strong, huh….” he repeated. Then, he looked at Omi. “I want you to de-fuse again,” he said.

“U-uh?” Omi asked.

“Yeah. So, I can see that kid again.”

“Kid? You mean me—er, Owen?” Owen, taking over, asked. “I’m not a kid, you know. I think I’m close to five hundred.”

“Whatever. You don’t act it. I want to fight you again, ‘Zard.”

“That’s….” Owen laughed. “We _just_ patched you up.”

“Owen…” Star said warningly.

“What?” Owen asked, glancing at Star with a half-smirk. He was trying to hide it, but he couldn’t deny how sad it would be to just beat Jerry up all over again, just because he wanted to ‘prove himself’ against a Heart. A Mystic Heart, no less. He lost once in a weak Dungeon when he was just a Charmander—sure, he had help from the others, but they were _all_ sealed and weak back then. Now, he wants to fight him not only unleashed, but _also_ as a Mystic?

“Yeah, and I want a rematch,” Jerry said. “I was weaker from all the smog, and I was hungry, too. Actually, you know what? I need food. What kinda eats you have around here? You owe me that. For letting me get melted.”

“Y-you did that to yourself!” Owen protested. “I—I mean, Ghrelle did, but—either way! That wasn’t our—”

“Ohh, we can spare some food, dear,” Amia sighed, clapping her hands together. “Come, Jerry. Why don’t we talk this over some steamed fruits?”

“Fruits?” Jerry asked, wrinkling his snout. “Do these teeth look like they eat fruits? I’d rather go hunting again.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” murmured Star.

Jerry stomped on the ground. “Look, I _refuse_ to let that battle count! We’re fighting for real, one on one! I don’t lose in one on one fights— _especially_ not to some weird little wannabe Dragon mutant!”

“ _Excuse_ me?!” Suddenly, the Charizard burst forth from the fusion, leaving a startled Meganium behind. “No, that’s not fair. I can’t help that. J-just because I’m Fire-Flying doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to just call me a—”

“Then you want to settle it in the field?” Jerry taunted. “C’mon, _let’s fight_. One on one.”

“Is this really necessary?” Rhys said impatiently.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “I don’t want to have to beat you again after _just_ healing you. Jerry, it’s just…” Owen sighed, smiling at him. “You’re sorta out of your league.”

“…Y’know what,” Star said, shrugging, “go for it. I think I want to see this, Owen.”

The Charizard blinked rapidly. “A-are you sure? I—I’ll _destroy_ him,” Owen said.

“Oh, what makes you so sure?” Jerry said. “Just because you have some fancy-shiny-powers, you can beat someone like me, who lived in the rough all his life? Please. I don’t care how strong you think you are, once I get to full strength, I’ll win. I have something to prove.”

Owen flinched, looking at Star, then at the others. “He can’t be serious,” he said, addressing the group at large. “Aren’t we—just _beyond_ mortals at this point, kinda?”

Daggers. Like an iron spike hitting him right at the side of his skill, Owen felt a glare from Star. His whole body felt frozen from it. He didn’t expect _that_ from her. “R-right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Star said slowly. “I think you two should fight.”

“S-Star?” Owen said.

“And none of that stupid Mystic-whatever business, either!” Jerry said.

“Th-that’s not fair, then I can’t use my full power, either!” Owen said.

“Yeah, that’s not fair, Jerry,” Star said, eyes closed with an uncanny calm. “Let Owen do his thing.”

“S-Star, why does your voice sound like ice?” Owen asked.

“Hmm…” Alex hummed, but then nodded to Amia to get something for Jerry to eat. “I think I understand what Star is talking about.”

“Dad?” Owen asked. The flame on his tail flickered, shrinking as if he’d gotten in trouble. “What are you talking about? You hate when I fight!”

“I do,” Alex said, nodding. “But I would rather you fight in a controlled environment, than get in trouble when it counts.”

“What’s that supposed to—"

“You know, hang on,” Star said, holding up her arms. “Let me help. Jerry, you can eat after. I’ll give you some energy to tie you over; that’s just as good as eating. How’s that?”

“Oh, a divine blessing from the Ancestor herself? Thanks, but no thanks. I want to beat this kid with my own power.”

“Pride’ll get you nowhere,” Star said. “I’m not giving you any sort of boost. I’m just restoring you to good shape.”

Owen gulped.

Star glanced over to Manny and jerked her head. The Lucario approached and held her shoulder. “We doin’ it like this?” he asked.

“Just a little.”

Star then held onto Jerry’s shoulder and focused; Manny’s paw glowed briefly, and Star’s paws glowed next. Jerry’s stance straightened considerably, and Manny hunched forward.

“Ugh, _that_ didn’ feel good,” Manny said, rubbing at the spike on his chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jerry said, beating his wings. A powerful shockwave of wind blew Owen’s way, threatening to put out the fire of his tail. “I feel great!” He beat his wings a second time, and Owen had to hold his stance to keep from toppling over. “So, this is what it feels like to fight on a full stomach.” He crouched down, wings spread. “Heh… well. Let’s get this done, huh?” Jerry’s eyes shined with something that Owen couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t the same desperate gleam of an outlaw trying to survive. Somehow, this new shine made the Charizard’s heart seize.

A fire burned in Owen’s chest, ready to battle. But—his instincts still haunted him, and he didn’t much care for that elation he felt for the fight. He channeled that instead to Jerry’s challenge. If he wanted a fight, he’d give it to him. Then he could put it all behind him, shake hands—well, wings—with Jerry, and move on with the _real_ dangers.

But Star’s glare worried him. What did he do to elicit _that_ response? He dared to look at Star one last time on the way to the sparring grounds.

All he saw in return was a direct, unblinking, unflinching stare.

 


	50. The Balance of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and Jerry spar with one another while the others watch; Nevren helps Anam with his paperwork at the Association.

Everyone, aside from Anam, his spirits, and Nevren, was gathered around at the large, rocky cavern. The warmer air made it difficult for non-Fire Types to fight for long; Step, sensing this unfair advantage, breathed out a frosty cloud, cooling the room in a matter of seconds. Alex protested quietly and rubbed his cannons together. Most of the others consciously or unconsciously huddled a bit closer to him and each other while the room’s temperature averaged out.

It was here that Owen had trained as a Charizard fighting Manny, where he had lost against the Fighting Guardian. But Owen knew he would have won, if he didn’t hold back. He was just trying to control himself. That’s why he lost. He was already past Manny, right? And Jerry would be no different, only this time, he was in total control. He had no reason to hold back. This battle would be over even faster than their encounter in Ghrelle’s domain.

“Make sure he has a Reviver Seed!” Owen remembered.

“I don’t need one,” Jerry said.

“Oh, for the love of—yes, you do, Jerry!” Star said, rubbing her forehead. “And so does Owen! This stupid thing is for a purpose, not for killing each other! Now make sure you have one on you, and you know the rules from there, right?”

“Pfft, rules. I’m going by street rules,” Jerry said, bouncing from foot to foot.

Manny tossed a seed to Owen; he caught it and slipped it into the bag tied around his shoulder. Amia ran over to Jerry and handed him a small bag as well, containing just the seed. Realizing that Jerry’s wing-hands may struggle with working something and tying it around his neck, she helped and slipped it over his head. With that, the combatants were ready.

“So, are we really doing this?” Owen asked, looking at Star.

“Yes,” Star said.

“Why?” He glanced at the others, who were sharing either Owen’s confused expression, or Star’s stoic eyes. In particular, he was unnerved that Rhys had his arms crossed, focused not on Owen or Jerry in particular, but the battlefield as a whole.

Owen then looked to Jerry. The way his heart beat, and the way his lungs inflated and deflated with such _depth_ … Owen could only interpret that as a flame. A fire that he thought only those of his Type could get, but no. Jerry had a fire in his heart, too. He never felt it before; Jerry had felt cold, desperate, and hungry. But now? _That must be it,_ Owen realized. _They energized him, so now he’s feeling better. Hmm… maybe I should be more careful after all, even if he’s not Mystic_.

Owen nodded. It wouldn’t be right to act haughty with Jerry anyway. He had a rough day. He thought back to how he had fought before—he often used Rock Blast. He wasn’t sure how an Aerodactyl could know such a technique, but that didn’t excuse the fact that it would be bad news for his normal form. He kept his Grassy self in mind, which would dull the blow to only double the pain.

“And…” Star raised her tiny arm up, “begin!”

Owen immediately beat his wings in the air, creating a flurry of pinpricks of Fire Traps in all directions. Jerry doubled back, recognizing the maneuver from their first encounter.

“Don’t think you can get me with that again!” Jerry shouted. “I know your trick!” He opened his mouth and fired a set of rocks at the first one, detonating it. This caused a chain reaction, every single blast fizzling into a bright flash. Owen pushed through a gap in the explosions, mouth aflame, the back of his throat aglow. He blasted a jet of flames straight to Jerry. The Aerodactyl took to the sky, glancing at the ceiling to get a feel for how much room he had, and then dove down, straight for Owen with his jaw outstretched.

Owen couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Despite his initial psyche-up to not get confident, he had to marvel at the one-track mind that Jerry had for battle. He shouldn’t have expected much from an almost-ex-criminal, though. Crunch did next to nothing before, and even if he was feeling fine now, he knew that biting force wasn’t going to get much stronger. Aerodactyl were built for biting; it’d be the last of his strength to go, and he felt that pressure.

Owen’s aura was too strong, and it reinforced his body; that was how the efficiency of techniques—and the protection against others’ techniques—worked! If his aura’s sync to his body was that much higher than Jerry’s, at some point, even his strongest attacks wouldn’t do much to him. And with his Mystic power, evolved form, and unleashed aura—Jerry wouldn’t stand a chance. Owen grimaced at the thought. Was Star punishing Jerry with this fight? That seemed a bit cruel—he already had a hard life, and now Creator Mew herself was…?

He held his arm out to block Jerry’s assault. Owen prepared for when the Crunch attack would hit his arm, just like before, and do nothing. After that, he’d just counter with a point-blank Flamethrower, and end the—

The Aerodactyl’s jaws crushed Owen’s arm like a twig.

Alex and Amia both turned their heads away in unison. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi all gasped. Willow sparked with surprise and hopped angrily on ADAM’s head, declaring Jerry a cheater. Enet agreed, pointing an accusatory claw at the Aerodactyl, having also witnessed that same attack having no effect in the Dark Mist Swamp. She rushed to Amia and shook her for an answer, but the Gardevoir only winced and said to let the battle finish. Manny rubbed his forehead. Step, Valle, and ADAM watched without reacting.

Zena bit her lip worriedly. “Owen…” she said. She glanced to her right. “Star… why are you doing this?”

Star didn’t answer.

Mispy’s vines glowed brightly, ready to heal him. Rhys placed a paw on her back and shook his head.

“But—” Mispy protested.

“No,” Rhys said. “They will be fine.”

The Charizard’s eyes bulged and he jerked his arm away, screaming in surprise and pain; the Aerodactyl beat his wings to daze Owen, gaining some distance. Trembling, the Charizard held his broken arm, fractured in multiple sections—it was useless, but that didn’t matter. He could fight without it. Blood trickled to the ground from deep gashes.

“H-how…?” Owen said. “I’m—I’m Mystic! I’m invincible to—!”

“I don’t _care_ what you say,” Jerry said, pointing a wing at Owen, “about your so-called divine blessings. As long as you have a body, it can break. And I’m gonna break it!”

“Th-that’s not how it works!” Owen said, flashing a look at Star. “Y-you! You—you gave him some—some sort of blessing!”

“I didn’t,” Star said. “I only restored him to be in fighting shape. Go on, Owen. You can sense if I’m lying. Feel my body language. What do you feel?”

Owen puffed. It was hard to concentrate when his arm was throbbing and stinging. But he tried, and Jerry waited.

“Yeah,” Jerry said. He folded his wings to his side and shifted to his right leg. “I want to know if this strength really is _mine_.”

Owen felt Star. Of course, she could be masking her lies. If they had no tell, then Owen couldn’t know one way or the other. Nevren was like that. He could never get a good read off of him unless Nevren was relaxed. But Star was exhibiting some sort of emotion. And it wasn’t that of deceit. In fact… Owen felt something else from Star. Tense jaws, her little paws clenching and unclenching. Her tail flicking, her ears twitching. And that stare she had, directed right at him. Star… _was_ nervous. But it didn’t seem to be because she was lying. In fact, when Star had said she didn’t enhance Jerry, she felt a bit _less_ nervous. Relieved that Jerry was putting up a fight?

“S-Star…?” Owen said.

“Battle’s not over,” Star said.

Owen looked at Jerry again. The pain was fading; his Mystic power was patching up the wounds. Bones mended themselves, and flesh bound together. The blood had clotted up, and was no longer painting the rocks. But he still couldn’t use it.

“Can we go on, now?” Jerry said. “It’s time I finished this.”

“A-as if!” Owen said, stepping back. He flexed his wings and flapped them in powerful, consecutive bursts, sending waves of compressed air toward his opponent. The gray fossil hopped to the left and opened his mouth again, dodging the Air Slash while firing another volley of rocks from his throat. The first one hit Owen square in the chest—the rest missed.

“What an odd move for an Aerodactyl to know,” Elder remarked. Owen, winded, was trying to get his bearings. “Rock Blast…. They can’t normally do such things.”

“Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” Star said. “Not the best move, but it catches people by surprise. Apparently, his family line had it for generations. All the way back to the… you know.”

Elder nodded. “I suppose you once gifted an ancestor of his with the Move, then?” he asked.

“That’s probably it,” Star nodded. “I _was_ a bit of a rulebreaker… I mean, I made some of those rules, so I guess it’s a little different….”

Elder gave Star a wry smile, and then looked at the fight. “…You didn’t have to do this to Owen, you know,” he said. “You could have just told him. He’s responsible.”

“Maybe,” Star said, using the end of her tail to clean out her left ear. “…But this is payback.” She moved on to the right ear.

“Payback,” Elder repeated.

Star nodded. “Yeah. For running off and acting stupid when I told him specifically not to, back when he first got the Orb.”

Elder stared at Star. “Goodness,” he said. “I thought _Barky_ was the one to hold grudges.”

Star’s left eye twitched. “Don’t make me start holding another.”

“O-of course….”

“Gnnnck…!” Owen clutched his chest when a second volley of rocks hit him. Some of the shattered pebbles knocked against his chin. Why wasn’t this working? He was supposed to be able to dodge these attacks easily! He saw every attack coming. His body just couldn’t react in time to the erratic firing.

“What, getting tired?” Jerry said. “C’mon! Where’s that super-Mystic-power of yours?”

“I’m—I’m getting to that!” Owen hissed, putting most of his weight on his right leg. Now he knew why. His arm. It was still distracting his movements. Even though he could see every strike, and even though he knew exactly where he had to go to dodge—he just didn’t have the speed or agility to execute it. It was the fight against Gahi all over again.

He had to get clever. And so, Owen closed his eyes, slowly… and focused. His body turned green again, and his scales became leaves, his flame a flower.

“There it is,” Jerry said, a sick grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah, there it is,” Owen said. He glanced at Star. He still didn’t understand. He was supposed to be _completely beyond_ Jerry’s league by now, wasn’t he? Or… or was Jerry just _always_ weak and starving, until just now? He thought about his fight against Manny, and then against Gahi, and then against other Synthetic Pokémon. How different were they, in the end? How great was the gap in power? Why would—

“Stop daydreaming!” Jerry fired three rocks toward Owen.

“Ngh—" Owen brought his wings forward and blocked the blast with a sturdy shield. Past his barrier, beyond sight, Owen sensed Jerry rapidly closing in. He opened his wings to the sight of the Aerodactyl flying straight toward him. His fangs were bared, and they were surrounded in an icy fog. Owen tried to get away, but Jerry’s momentum outpaced the Charizard’s acceleration. Jerry crunched down on Owen’s other arm—but this time, something much worse than a few fractures coursed through Owen. A stinging, freezing, crushing force went through his muscles and spread to his chest; the Ice Fang mixed with the blood and flesh and leaves of the Grass-Flying Type’s body.

Owen wailed and swung his frozen arm to get Jerry off, and he complied. He released his hold and flew back with the same dazing wingbeat. Then, Jerry rushed forward for a second time. Owen sensed it, and this time, had the reflexes and adrenaline to react. He opened his mouth wide and launched from his throat a sphere of green energy. Overconfident, Jerry couldn’t stop his momentum in time, and the Energy Ball hit him square in the chest. The explosion sent the Aerodactyl flying backward, flipping twice; he beat his wings frantically to regain some control in the air and skidded to a stop once he hit the ground again. A black, circular mark colored his chest.

“Got careless that time,” he grunted. But he still had fight left in him. It looked like Owen did, too. But while there was fire in Jerry’s eyes, it didn’t take a special power for the Aerodactyl to see the fearful, frantic confusion in Owen’s. Jerry brought his wing to his neck, gently stroking at the Pecha Scarf. He didn’t feel any power coming from it, so that wasn’t influencing his power, either. This was _his_ … and it was shattering Owen’s Thousand-Heart pride. And he _loved_ that. “Let’s finish this,” Jerry said.

Owen slammed his tail on the rocks, sending shockwaves through the cave. Vines burst from the ground in huge, monstrous columns that dwarfed even Mispy’s frenzy, writhing toward Jerry. The living fossil took off, weaving past the first two vines. Vine Trap, was it? They couldn’t float in the air like Owen’s Fire Trap. That made them easier to predict. More importantly, they were slower. Jerry spotted one in the corner of his eye, threatening to stab him with its sharp tip. He banked hard to the right, earning just a graze. Then, he banked to the left, and then moved unpredictably to the right again. The vines flicked uncertainly, hitting where Jerry would have gone just a few seconds earlier, had he continued in that trajectory.

That’s when Jerry got an idea. He then fired five rock blasts again, but this time, they went in totally random directions. Two went forward. One to the right. One straight up—and another diagonally down. The two that went toward Owen were the first to catch his opponent’s attention. One hit the ground and shattered into tiny fragments; the other, Owen dodged. One hit Owen’s rightmost vine, getting lodged inside. The remaining two shattered into countless tiny pieces.

Those many tiny pieces falling around them like rain—the many, many rocks. Owen’s eyes were wide, vacant. Watching every single shard fall like it could do harm, analyzing where each one could go, how he could use them to his advantage. Mentally watching its accelerations toward the ground, its velocities either toward or away from Owen. Calculus, was that what Owen called it? Could he not help being aware of every little thing that moved? Owen’s trance lasted for only a half-second. But that was all Jerry needed.

He spiraled down and twisted his body in a cork-screw. At the last minute, the claw at the edge of his wings tensed, and he spun until he could get a good angle. He wouldn’t miss this one, so close. Aerial Ace would be Jerry’s finishing blow. A slash—he felt his wing-claws glide through Owen’s throat.

Jerry spun around and landed behind Owen, staring at the blood on his wings. He even caught a few of the leaves.

Owen staggered back and held his throat, staring at the blood that spilled from the wound. It hurt doubly so with his current Typing—the sting propagated throughout his body. His chest was red. His vision faded—Jerry had struck something vital. His blood pressure dropped…. His legs crumpled beneath him; the Charizard fell forward and onto the ground, limp. The seed inside his bag flashed, washing him in a golden light.

That was the signal to Jerry that he won. He puffed out a sigh of relief, and then looked at the others. “Okay,” he said. “I guess he put up a good fight.” He tapped at his chest, wincing slightly. If he got hit just one more time…. “Hey,” he shouted, “Vines! Can ya give me a little healing!?”

Mispy glared so harshly that Jerry was worried he’d faint anyway.

Amia and Alex rushed toward Owen to help him up; Star leisurely floated along with them. It was Rhys who ended up giving Jerry an Oran Berry to aid in his wounds. He gratefully chomped on the blue miracle, perhaps the one fruit he’d happily eat.

“Owen, Owen, dear,” Amia said. “A-are you okay? Owen?” She pushed him.

“Wh-whuh… what… what happened?” he said, rubbing his left horn. He rolled onto his back, grunting. “Ugh, my neck…” He still felt a phantom pain from the slash. His chest wasn’t doing any better. He saw something blurry and pink floating above him—the see-through apparition of Star…. She was coming closer, staring him right in the eyes, upside-down. “Star, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d lose to—"

“ _Never_ ,” Star said, her tone lower and more venomous than he’d ever heard, “talk like you’re above mortals. Don’t even _think_ that you can’t be beaten by one. And do _not_ assume that just because you’re Mystic, you have the favor of divinity on your side.”

“S-Star, I…!” Owen shook his head, but that only made him dizzier. “I didn’t mean it like I was _better_ than—”

“I don’t care,” Star said. “And you didn’t care when you said it. You just assumed you were stronger. That Jerry couldn’t beat you. You’re better than that, Owen. You knew Jerry was weakened. Yet, here you are. Beaten and bruised, on the ground, after getting your chest cracked and throat slashed. You got beat by an Outlaw, and he beat you all on his own. I didn’t enhance him. That scarf he’s wearing is a Pecha Scarf, and it only protects against Ghrelle. I doubt she was helping you in that fight. No. It was just you, and him. And you lost.”

“S-so, what?!” Owen said. “H-he—he had a Type advantage… Rocks… and then Ice Fang! How am I supposed to know that?”

“You’re right,” Star said. “Yet, look at how you were before. I saw that eyeroll.”

It suddenly became a lot harder to look at Star directly.

“I think your memories coming back made you overestimate how strong you really are,” Star said. “Think of how badly that fight with Jerry would have gone if he wasn’t weak—if he had the fire to pierce through your Mystic powers back at Dark Mist Swamp. Wouldn’t have been very cool then, huh? Then you’d be injured, in the middle of the poison, with Ghrelle watching your overconfidence. What if she melted you then? Maybe Jerry would become the Grass Guardian next.”

“I…” Owen said. “Why’re you being like this? I don’t… I don’t get it, I’m just—I’m just trying my _best_ …!”

“You aren’t, Owen,” Star said. “You’re slipping. You’re getting too cozy with your power. You think it makes you invincible? If these Orbs made you so strong, I wouldn’t be worried about some test-tube experiments hunting the Guardians down. If your Mystic powers made you invincible, Cara and Forrest would still be alive. But they aren’t, Owen.”

Owen puffed. The phantom pain of the battle was fading. It was replaced with a knot in his gut.

“How’d Jerry beat me?” Owen said. “I’m still Mystic, and he couldn’t have become _that_ much stronger just from being revitalized.”

Owen didn’t expect Star to react with silence. He had been expecting another quick retort.

“To be honest,” Star finally admitted, “I didn’t think he’d beat you so soundly.”

“Gee, thanks,” Owen huffed. That was even _worse_ than he’d been anticipating. He refused to look at Jerry, even though he could feel his proud grin.

“But I knew he’d’ve given you trouble. Because he’s a lot like you, Owen. Resourceful, clever, that sort of fighter. And he’s also got a Type advantage on you, no matter how you slice it.” Star shook her head. “But I think what gave him the win… was the fire he had. He had something to prove.”

“What, so Jerry won… not just because his energy was back, and he had a Type advantage… but also because… of his _sheer will_?”

“Yes.”

Owen stared. “…Willpower doesn’t… do anything, though. It’ll motivate you to do a little better, but the body’s the body.”

Star smiled slightly. “Yeah. Normally.”

Owen waited impatiently for the answer.

Star obliged. “Mystic Pokémon have some advantages.” She raised her hands in a shrug. “They can warp reality to what they desire, in some small ways. Change their form.” Star glanced at Manny. “Evolve and un-evolve.” Star nodded at Willow. “And of course, strengthen their auras. And all the other little tricks that Mystic powers let you do, by nudging the world around you a certain way. But that doesn’t apply _just_ to the Mystic.” She nodded at Jerry. “In battle, Pokémon draw from their auras and tap into divine energy. That’s what makes their Moves and techniques possible—and their ability to survive them from others. Their offense and defense is enhanced by the aura. This all sounds familiar, right? Rhys’ aura theory?”

“Y-yeah…”

“That was by my design. And when a Mystic is in battle, their auras permeate the whole field, and that Mystic aura becomes a constant presence. If a mortal’s aural fire burns bright enough, they can take advantage of that in battle, too. Because in the end….” The Mew trailed off, nodding. “Drawing from that divine energy is what _all_ Pokémon do. Mystics just have a better connection. But that isn’t insurmountable, and _that_ ,” Star said, “is how Jerry beat you.”

Owen gulped, but then he brought his head down. He understood. Mystic Pokémon were powerful in a lot of ways, and he encountered so many others who dwarfed even his power. With how much he’d been training, and how honed his aura had become, he thought he was totally beyond the average Pokémon’s power.

“That’s why the Synthetics, who aren’t Mystic at all, can still give Guardians trouble,” Owen said.

 Star nodded. “I need to remind you of that. Sorry that I made an example out of you, but… I felt it getting out of hand. This goes as a reminder to you as much as it does to everyone else. Don’t forget, yeah? No matter how strong you are, and no matter how many defenses you think you have…. The moment someone gets an upper hand?  And you aren’t _ready_ for that? That’s it.” Star shook her head. “You lost.”

 

Anam’s office was quiet except for the occasional sound of paper flipping and pages turning. Then, the dull noise of a pen scribbling away.

“Ah. That must be it,” Nevren said, circling his findings. “Well. I should probably dispatch someone to rescue them.” He placed the paper on one of the piles. “James does good work, Anam. It’s a shame he can’t help me right now.”

“Nn… nngg…”

Anam was slumped against the wall, eyes wide, holding his head. The feelers that sprouted on the top of his skull were throbbing uncontrollably, overwhelmed by some invisible, internal sensation.

“Yes, yes, I understand you want to help, but that’s not something I can allow at the moment, either.”

“Get… get out… of my…” Anam said. “P-please… Nevren…” Gooey tears hit the ground. “I thought… you were…”

“Unfortunately, that isn’t part of my plans,” he said. “You need not worry, Anam. This is an uncomfortable transition, but you will grow used to it soon. However, I must be honest, it would have been a lot easier if you just accepted it outright. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I would have simply revised the moment… but given how close we already are, well. Eon is impatient. I’d rather not have him upset. This will do. I’m positively giddy that it is finally working.” Nevren’s tone remained neutral throughout, and turned another page, reading through the next report.

“All this time… I thought…” Anam said, but his eyes were becoming empty. Vacant.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Nevren said, flipping a page. “I genuinely value this town and this world. And I do value your outlook, Anam. The charisma you overflow with and the morale you provide to the town has been invaluable. There is no use in destroying what you have built, let alone take it over directly. But some things have to be done for the greater good. Sacrifices are necessary. With any luck, they will only be temporary. But it is better than our current trajectory, yes? Yes..”

“No…”

“Mm, I believe you mean yes, yes?”

“N… nn…” Anam’s eyes stared at the floor. “Y… yes…”

“Very good, Anam. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you… Nevren…” Anam said.

Nevren suddenly glanced up, and then glanced at a small badge at the bottom left corner of the table. The badge was a sapphire color, with a gray, dim circle in the center.

“Elite Heart Alakazam Nevren!” someone shouted, rushing into the office. “Th-there’s a sighting of another one of those mutated Pokémon! It’s running wild in the—wh-what’s going on?”

The Pokémon saw the scene before him—the Association Head slumped on the wall, and Nevren, standing there, without a care, with a disturbingly neutral, indifferent expression. “E-Elite Heart Alak—”

“There is nothing to worry about here,” Nevren said with a casual wave of his hand. “You won’t remember any of this. Let’s just wipe that mind clean of the past few moments… ahh, there we go.”

The Pokémon stared dumbly ahead.

“Now, close your eyes,” Nevren said, not even looking up.

The Pokémon shut his eyes.

“You will turn around, and walk. Your Mission will be to gather two Elite Hearts to neutralize the mutant. If it is close to the village, there is no other choice. If it is far, try to subdue and relocate it to the Evergreen Prairie. I will handle it from there. Go on, now.” Nevren shooed him away with a gentle flick, and the hypnotized Pokémon opened his eyes.

“Understood!” He was back to normal, and didn’t even look back.

Nevren sighed. “Modifying memories is so cumbersome,” he murmured to himself. “At least I had practice when Owen ran through the town as a Grass Type.” He shook his head. “Perhaps I could have done that better. Ahh, but how would I hide Anam? No. What I did was best for that one. He will forget. Ahh, Anam. How are you feeling?”

The Goodra was silent.

“Hm. This is a difficult rewrite. Oh, well. It’s only a matter of time. Very persistent, Anam. But I already have you. There is no way to counter me at this point. It’s a losing battle, yes?”

Suddenly, a black fog emerged behind Nevren. James burst from the shadows, ready to fire a feather-arrow directly into his back. But he didn’t. His body was frozen. Nevren looked at his hand; the Petrify Orb in it evaporated shortly after its use. Shortly afterward, the sapphire badge at the corner of his table brightened; the gray circle became a bright blue.

“In another time,” Nevren said, “that would have hurt quite a bit, James. I am surprised you still have a will of your own, with Anam in such a state.” He put his pen down, finishing the final document of the day. He picked up his spoons and turned to address the frozen Decidueye directly.

James’ eyes were filled with the malice of a thousand vengeful spirits. Yet, he was immobile.

“I’m sure you know as well as anyone that the wills of spirits are strongly linked to the will of their host. And, to a much weaker extent, vice versa. Perhaps that is why Anam took so long to control…. If I could go back far enough, I would have tried it all again with someone else, perhaps someone less powerful, but still useful. Still, orders are orders.” Nevren held his arms up in a nonchalant shrug. “In the end, this is the payoff. Anam is mine. How are you feeling, James?”

The Decidueye kept glaring, but now there was a flash of fear, and confusion, too.

“There is no need to be afraid, James. I have no intention of rewriting your personality, or even your sense of self, let alone Anam’s. I am merely altering a few goals and desires. That is all. …Hm?” Nevren turned his attention to Anam again. He was standing up.

“Ah, Anam,” Nevren said. “How are you doing?”

He shambled forward. Every heavy step left behind slime and black fog.

“Hm. Abnormal,” Nevren commented, though he did not move.

The Goodra held his arms forward and grabbed Nevren by the neck.

“ _Very_ abnormal,” Nevren said, feeling a light pressure against his throat. “This isn’t Anam anymore, is it? Ahh…” Nevren stared into Anam’s eyes. That was a different glow. _This_ glare was something Anam wasn’t capable of. How _fascinating_ to finally meet her. “I’m very sorry if this upsets you, Madeline.”

“I… will… KILL… you…”

“I’m afraid that is no longer a choice on your part,” Nevren said. Slime went down his neck, down his chest, and onto the floor. The Goodra’s grip tightened. This possessed Pokémon could _easily_ crush his neck, yet it never happened. Because that part of Anam’s mind was already wiped away, replaced by an instinct to never harm Nevren. And so long as this spirit was a part of Anam, that instinct was part of her hard-wiring, too.

The fact that she was being so forceful was interesting. So interesting! The power of the spirit to defy his own new design. Extraordinary! Yet, just a ripple against the inevitable. A small disturbance that faded into the expansive lake, into oblivion. Even now, her grip was fading.

“Why…?” the Goodra asked. “Anam… trusted you…”

“He trusts quite a few people. In fact, it would not be much of a stretch that Anam trusts everybody. It was that trust that allowed him to acquire the Ghost Orb in the first place, was it not? Yes… an Orb too powerful to fight, acquired by a Goodra that knew only to befriend. It was that same openness that allowed me to slowly rewrite his subconscious mind. Quite underhanded, I know. But there is no need for honor when all that matters are the results. You may let go of me, now.”

The Goodra instantly let go of Nevren’s neck; with a gentle Psychic blast, the slime flew off of his body. “After five hundred years of careful subconscious writing,” Nevren continued, “and _constant_ reworking and retrying, I believe we are ready. Quite a few of the pieces are in place. The prototypes are stabilized. Their leader has the Grass Orb. Over half of the Guardians are gathered in one place. Now, if _only_ we could penetrate the Trinity…”

“Your sins… will never… wash away…!”

“Sins?” Nevren questioned. “What a fascinating term, Madeline. Anam speaks very fondly of—ahh, but you know that. Hm. Well. In any case, I believe you are nearly gone, now. I suppose I will give you the opportunity for your final words before the rewrite?”

The Goodra’s eyes were becoming vacant again. His mouth opened once to say something, but only a little breath came out. Black fog surrounded his body, swimming restlessly in his slime like an infestation of bugs. Lumps of shadow-like matter danced beneath the surface of his amorphous form.

The words that came from Anam was in an amalgamation of the thousands of spirits within him. The voice was corrupted, every single one speaking over each other in a garbled cacophony, yet they all said the same thing. “I will… cast you… into… the void…”

“I see,” Nevren said. “I hope you considered that a productive use of your thoughts.”

And then, the Goodra fell back, asleep.

The office was quiet again. Nevren gently scratched at an itch on his chin. “…Ah! I forgot about you. I apologize.” Nevren reached forward and tapped James on the forehead. The Decidueye blinked and shook his head, the effects of the Petrify Orb ending upon contact.

“What… happened? A-Anam?”

“Do you not remember? You were helping me with the daily reports. Anam mentally exhausted himself, slipped into the pool, and fell asleep.”

“Hrmnh… I do not,” James said. “I must have exhausted myself as well. That’s… worrisome. Are the reports finished?”

“Yes! They are, certainly. Once Anam wakes up, you can return to the others. Until then, perhaps you can survey the building. It has been a while since we performed a status check on the general Missions, considering the… Orb gathering.”

“Hm, that is true,” James said. “Very well. Thank you, Nevren, for your constant help.”

“It is not a problem, James.”

The Decidueye sank into the ground; the resulting fog swiftly trailed out of the office.

Anam quietly mumbled in his sleep. Nevren arranged the papers into a neat stack, leaving only the summary page at the very top. They had quite a few new assignments to take care of, but it was better to have them now, than not know they were needed at all. The Alakazam sighed. Speaking of assignments, he just finished his longest one.

“And so, they are mine,” he said softly. After nearly five hundred years, it was over. Everything was falling together. All he had to do now was wait for them all to be in one place. “That went quite well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always, and hey! The next part to the story is going to be Special Episode 2, and is actually a really hefty one, a bit more than twice the usual length. Because of that, I'm going to need two weeks to get this all set through, rather than my usual one week. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Special Episode 2: Revise the Moment drops on September 2nd!


	51. Special Episode 4: Revise the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after the botched fusion, Nevren and Mispy go on an exploration into Rotwood Fen for a mission.

Rotwood Fen was a cursed place.

The ground was covered in a thin, patchy layer of dark grass. Surrounding this grass was black mud, fungus, and grime, cold to the touch. Rocks were covered in mold and moss, various shades of gray and bluish-black, or some strange mixture of both. Bug Pokémon hid beneath the largest boulders, in little pockets of air and dirt, seeking shelter from the many feral predators that roamed the woods.

The trees were sparsely populated. Each one was no more than a foot in diameter—flimsy things that had few leaves. The bark flaked away to the touch, and had a fuzzy, soft texture on the surface. It wouldn’t take much to push one of these damp, decaying structures to the ground. The roots were gnarled and twisted through the dirt like tentacles. Some of the trees had scraggly, vine-like, yet wooden accents to the trunk that wrapped around the main bark like Tanglea or the limbs of a Carnevine.

Two Pokémon walked through this dying forest. One was an Alakazam, holding his two spoons in one hand, and a strange, square device in another. The device had a minimalistic interface, with a few numbers in the top corner that slowly decreased as they moved, and a dot near the top of the screen that moved closer to the center.

The second Pokémon was huddled behind Nevren—a small Chikorita, nervously avoiding any of the trees. She saw herself in them, and what this forest could do to plants. Would she rot away in a place like this? If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up becoming some wild Pokémon’s next meal. And then what?

“D-Dad,” she said.

“Yes, Mispy?” Nevren asked, looking back.

“I—I don’t,” she gulped, “like this place.”

“Ahh, I understand,” Nevren said. “Not to worry. As long as you are with me, we will be perfectly safe.”

“Why couldn’t Demitri…?”

“I only needed you, Mispy, for the purpose of healing,” Nevren said. “The others are still training. You want to evolve, after all, yes? And healing is a great way to practice your special abilities.”

“Mnn,” Mispy sniffed. “It’s scary….”

“I understand,” Nevren said. “Granted, we _are_ a small team. Just the two of us. And you’re quite used to cooperating with the other three. But ever since you fused together and lost your minds, well—” Nevren realized too late that he’d slipped.

“H-huh?” Mispy’s head jerked up. “What… what d....? I—I fused? What does…?! I don’t remember… I don’t…” Mispy’s wide eyes became even wider. Her leaf trembled—memories came flooding back. “A… Aaaa…! AAAAAHH!”

Nevren dropped his spoons to the ground and slipped the now-free hand into the bag slung around his neck. He grabbed a small, blue device with a circular, bright emblem in the middle, and clicked on the center button.

The world was dark for less than a blink. And then, the world returned to normal. Nevren was walking forward. Mispy was walking behind him. Nevren scanned his location and made sure to not lose his rhythmic steps. The tree that they had passed moments ago was ahead of him again.

“D-Dad,” Mispy spoke up.

“Yes, Mispy?” Nevren asked, looking back at the Chikorita.

“I—I don’t,” she gulped, “like this place.”

“Ahh, I understand,” Nevren said. “Not to worry. As long as you are with me, we will be perfectly safe.” Nevren didn’t pause this time. “I imagine you want Demitri and the others here, but they’re still training. Your healing will be invaluable on this outing.”

“Oh,” Mispy said. “O-okay…”

Nevren nodded. “Very good, then. Let’s continue.”

They continued their walk through Rotwood. The trees were starting to get a bit denser, but they were no less rotten. The sky was darkening rapidly, and Nevren suddenly stopped his walking when he sensed a change in the atmosphere. “Mispy,” he said, “you should stay close to me, yes?”

“H-huh?”

Nevren turned around. Just as he thought. Behind him was a great expanse of repeating trees and mossy rocks. Not the same trees that they had just passed. The entire world around them had shifted and changed, and he could already feel the mystical effects take place through his body. The ground ahead was raised, made of the same rotten dirt and trees, forming corridors and small clearings.

“We entered a Mystery Dungeon. It seems that we can only advance to our destination by completing it.”

“M-Mystery? B-but…!”

“There is no need to worry,” Nevren said. “Remember. The greatest danger of a Mystery Dungeon is getting lost. The next greatest danger is being defeated in one, losing contact with the rest of your team.” He turned and advanced through the paths. “Being defeated in a Mystery Dungeon will cause you to be rejected from it. You will be away from whatever danger caused you those injuries, but anything that you brought with you, now belongs to the Dungeon. But, more concerning,” he looked back, “is that you will still be weak. Assuming you do not succumb to your injuries, many predators live at the entrance to Dungeons for this reason, preying on the defeated. While you escaped your captor, what happens afterward is,” Nevren paused, “less than desirable. You must be careful to not fall victim to these opportunistic inhabitants.”

Mispy sniffed, but suddenly stopped. “L-let’s go back,” she said. “I—I don’t…! I don’t want to--” She sniffled again. “Die…! B-be… eaten…!” Her red eyes filled with tears.

“There’s no need to cry,” Nevren said. “Come. There is no way out of a Dungeon once you enter it, but to go forward. Perhaps it won’t be very long.”

With Nevren’s back turned toward Mispy, he continued. Mispy timidly followed in a light gallop, trying to keep up. She tripped over a root and squeaked in surprise. Nevren stopped again. “Mispy, you shouldn’t—”

When Nevren turned around, he spotted a small tree moving. No, not a tree. Between gaps in its wooden armor was a black mass that made up its core; false leaves covered its large hands and head, and a single, great, red eye stared Mispy down. With a single strike, dark claws slashed through Mispy’s body, tearing her plant-like flesh, straight to the bone. She cried out and collapsed, and a second claw through her skull finished it. Her mangled body vanished from the Dungeon.

Nevren stared dumbly. He didn’t have time to react. A second Shadow Claw went right along his chest—a splitting, yet numbing pain coursed through him. He saw red gush from his body, and the second Shadow Claw going straight for his skull.

The next thing he knew, Nevren was lying on the ground, a horrible pain gnawing at his chest. He must have been rejected from the Dungeon, but—he was too weak to move. His head felt light. But he forced himself to open his eyes. He saw a swift motion against his chest—a Mightyena, with its black fur and sharp teeth, was tearing away at him. He couldn’t gasp. His lungs were filled with blood—and the realization of what was happening doubled his pain. His arm twitched, and he attempted a reflexive Psychic attack on the Pokémon. It was ignored. He turned his head, searching for Mispy. She’d be here, too. The Mightyena crunched down; a gurgling gasp escaped Nevren’s throat.

His vision was blurry, but he saw something green and red crumpled up a few paces away, motionless. More dark shapes surrounded this figure, shuffling around.

“M-Mystery? B-but…!”

Nevren jolted where he stood, losing his rhythm. He blinked a few times and held his chest. Nothing. He looked around to gather his surroundings. He had just entered the Dungeon. Mispy was behind him. His heart rate picked up, and he slowly clenched his fist. One breath was all he needed to steady himself.

“There is no need to worry,” Nevren said, remembering his own words. “Remember. The greatest danger of a Mystery Dungeon is getting lost. And,” Nevren hesitated. “For that reason, you should stay close to me. Understood?”

“Y-yes! Okay,” Mispy said, trailing off.

“For example,” Nevren said, and then his eyes flashed with energy at a nearby tree. It screeched and wailed; its body twisted into a spiral, splitting apart at the wood. And then, it vanished from view. “That was a Trevenant. Quite territorial, if I had to guess. But it can’t hurt us anymore.”

“Oh…!” Mispy said. “Dad! You’re,” she paused to find the right words, “so cool!”

Nevren chuckled. “Come, Mispy. Let me hold you for this Dungeon.”

She happily complied, jumping into his arms. Nevren held her a bit tighter than usual.

Nevren looked into his bag, staring at the cyan device. The dot in the middle was gray, and he slowed down, scanning his surroundings. It was still the same, dreary atmosphere of endless, repeating walls of gray mud and black trees. He stopped walking, and Mispy looked up at him, confused.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Nevren stared at the device. A few seconds passed, and the gray dot brightened again. “Nothing,” he said. “I was just waiting for my device to start again. It helps with Dungeons. A bit of a good luck charm.”

“Oh!” Mispy nodded. “Okay.”

Nevren gently inspected that cyan device again.

Mispy shifted uncomfortably in his hold and leaned against his left arm. “Weird,” she said.

“Hm? What was that?” Nevren asked.

“Dream,” she said slowly.

“A dream? Of what?”

Mispy trembled, shaking her head. “S-scary.”

Nevren looked down at Mispy briefly, then at his device. Then, back at Mispy. He gently rubbed at her head, wrapping his fingers around the base of the leaf atop her skull. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mispy,” he said, and sent a subtle, weak energy into her. “Now, what were you talking about?”

“Hm?” Mispy asked, looking up. “Talking about what?”

“You were dreaming. Do you remember?”

“Dreaming?”

“Ah. I must have misheard.” Nevren nodded. He looked forward again. “Ah, look, Mispy. Do you see that?”

It was subtle, but the passageway ahead of them had an odd distortion of light through it, like thick, rippling water. Unless one was paying close attention, it would go completely unnoticed. It took Mispy twenty seconds to see what he was talking about.

“Oh! Water? In the air?”

“Not quite,” Nevren said. “That is a passageway into the next section of the Mystery Dungeon. Watch.” He stepped into the distortion. The world around them blurred, and the trees rearranged themselves in a blink.

He was also surrounded by five Pokémon in a small, cramped space. Mispy yelped in surprise and flailed helplessly in Nevren’s arms; he couldn’t react in time, and felt another shadowy claw slash through his spine. He lost feeling in his legs instantly. He immediately searched for the device to try again, but then saw a sphere of black energy hurtling toward him. He raised his arm reflexively to block it. Almost instantly, the black energy exploded, the mist sealed inside wrapping around his arm. It infested it down to the very marrow, rotting it from the inside-out. He hissed and tried to use it to grab his device again, but the Shadow Ball did its work perfectly—he couldn’t use that arm if he tried. He desperately used his other arm, dropping his spoons and Mispy in the process. She squeaked, and he hit the button.

Nevren stood still, staring at the passageway. The little distortion in space beckoned for him to enter. He steadied his breath and looked down at Mispy; she was squinting at the oddly refracted light.

“Oh! Water? In the air?”

“Not quite,” Nevren said. “That is a passageway into the next section of the Mystery Dungeon. However.” He closed his eyes. “I am having a, hrm, Psychic premonition about this passageway. We need to be ready for anything, Mispy. I would like you to prepare yourself. Once we pass through, I want you to perform two of your techniques, yes? A Reflect, and then a Light Screen. I will handle the rest.”

“O-okay!” She gulped.

They stepped through. Instantly, Mispy waved her leaf in the air, making a psychic barrier around the two of them; Nevren deftly stepped forward and spun around, twisting the air around the Pokémon that intended to claw him in the back. It was turned to ghostly wood chips, ejected from the Dungeon for the ferals to eat. Mispy waved her leaf again, screaming; a second barrier reinforced the first, significantly weakening the explosive wad of darkness that hit Nevren on his back. He felt the rotting pain, but he could work it off. He turned around and warped the air again, splintering that one next. The three remaining Pokémon rushed at him, tree root legs flailing against the dirt. They left angry gashes wherever they moved. Nevren had to improvise. He focused and held Mispy tight. With a wash of psychic light, the two of them vanished, reappearing inconveniently only a few paces from where he had started.

“Ngh—just my luck, I suppose,” Nevren said. But it bought Mispy enough channel a warm, healing energy to Nevren, ridding him of the injury on his back. Rejuvenated, he dispatched of the third Pokémon next, leaving just two more to deal with. Mispy puffed out her cheeks at the aggressors.

“M-my turn!” she said, and her leaf lit up. A powerful beam of light—even in the dim sunlight that this cursed forest provided—blasted through one of the remaining pokemon, completely incinerating it. It died so quickly that the Dungeon didn’t even eject its carcass. The remaining wilds stared at the smoldering mass before them. Flaming pieces of wood crackled on the dirt, becoming one with the ash. The remaining one turned around and fled.

“Kill it,” Mispy hissed.

“If you wish,” Nevren said, and held his arm forward. In a twisted sense of revenge, Nevren generated a similar ball of rotting energy from his palm, chasing the final Trevanant. The black sphere engulfed it, and Nevren watched its body darken with a scream. Upon wasting away, it disappeared..

Mispy huffed. “Evil,” she said.

“Territorial is more accurate. But perhaps it is for the best,” Nevren said. “That one may have requested backup from others like it. We couldn’t allow that. Now.” Nevren checked his bag. The button was alight. “That was very good, Mispy. Let’s continue.”

Nevren had to be careful. He checked at his device again. They had two close calls and one verbal slip-up already. He was beginning to suspect he was getting reckless. It was tiresome, trying again and again. But he had a feeling that he was going to have to use that button quite a lot more once they got through this perilous, dreary place.

Mispy’s leaf twitched, brushing against his chest

 “Are you okay, Mispy?” Nevren asked. “Do you see any strange auras? Your sense is quite a bit stronger than mine.”

“Mn, no,” Mispy said. “It’s… hard.”

“Yes, Mystery Dungeons tend to do that,” he said. “With the warping of space and time within these fields, well, even your sense of aura is going to be somewhat distorted. Particularly beyond each section.” He pointed at the next distortion. “Get ready, Mispy. The same as before, just in case, yes?”

“Do you have a… premonition?” she asked.

“Not this time,” Nevren said. “But it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

He passed through the section barrier and then quickly turned around. Nobody. He checked behind him again, where he had been facing. Nobody. But he still refused to move, listening for any sign of movement, any marking of an ambush waiting to happen. But, there was nothing. Mispy couldn’t detect anything, either.

He sighed slowly. “Very good,” he said. “As I expected, there is nothing here to worry about, Mispy. We will continue.”

To their fortune, the worst of the Dungeon was actually near the beginning, where they had been ambushed and killed—though only Nevren remembered. He held Mispy a bit tighter again, pressing her back against his chest.

Mispy tilted her head up, tapping her leaf against his neck. “It’s okay,” she said.

“A-ah? Ah. Yes, I’m just fine, Mispy.” He looked down. “Be on your guard. There could be an ambush around any corner in a place like this. The ferals are quite territorial, it seems.” He eyed a suspicious tree. Hoping to conserve his energy for more important battles, he held his hand out and said, “Close your eyes, Mispy.”

She obeyed immediately, and a bright, blinding flash of light pounded into the tree. A strange force accompanied it, like little pinpricks of needles—the tree shrieked and twisted in agony, crumpling to the ground. It was rejected from the Dungeon, too. “Hmph, of course,” he said.

Mispy blinked a few times, adjusting to the residual light. “Dazzling…?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s quite handy, don’t you agree?”

“How’d you know?”

“Perhaps I was a bit paranoid. I don’t trust the trees here any longer.” He continued through the corridors, noting that the mud of the Rotwood Fen was getting simultaneously thinner and deeper. They were nearing marshlands of some kind.

“And how are you feeling?” Nevren asked.

“I’m… okay.” Mispy nodded.

“Very good.”

Between the thickening black fog, the darkening sky, and the general distortions that accompanied such an exploration, Nevren had no idea how much time had actually passed since his entry into the Rotwood Fen Dungeon. He did know, however, that Mispy had fallen asleep in his arms after a few more segments, and he did his best to fight the remaining Pokémon quietly. Every so often she was startled awake by a shriek, and Nevren had to make a second attempt at the same moment a few times the further he went. The worst was when a Haunter had paralyzed him from behind with a single brush of its tongue, and he could only watch helplessly as it dug its claws into him afterward.

Frankly, he couldn’t wait until this was over, but he still had a small section left to go. He saw, far ahead, the powerful distortion associated with a Dungeon’s end. And it was in this final section that Nevren stopped his walking, and instead started sloshing through the ground. The water, by now, was waist-deep for the Alakazam, and Mispy migrated from his arms to the top of his head, wrapping her vines around his chest to stay secure. “Bad,” Mispy said softly.

“Yes, quite bad,” Nevren said. “I do hope there isn’t anything crawling through this water. It’s quite murky. I may need to bathe for an entire day.”

“Mn,” Mispy nodded.

“Ah, Mispy. I do have a bit of an injury near my shoulder from that Haunter’s strike. Would you mind?”

“Oh—okay.” Mispy closed her eyes, channeling a bit of healing energy into him.

The pain eased itself away. Bruises faded, and only a dull tingling remained. He sighed softly. “Very good,” he said.

But that didn’t rid them of the ominous fog that polluted the atmosphere. It obscured their vision; there was no escaping its omnipresence. Mispy moaned quietly and covered her face with her leaf, coughing into it. But it wasn’t smoke, and her breathing didn’t push the fog away. It was a strange, ethereal vapor that didn’t follow the wind. It merely floated around them, sinking into and through their skin, through their very _auras_.

“Ngh. This is certainly the work of the Ghost Orb,” said Nevren to himself. “Mispy, do not worry. The smoke may feel strange, but it will not suffocate you. It is… This is something else.”

Nevren stared at his hand worriedly. It wouldn’t suffocate them, but he could feel something influencing his body. His hand was darkening. Patches along his arm looked like what had happened when that Shadow Ball hit it. Something occurred to him and he immediately reached up for Mispy, pulling her down.

“Dad?” Mispy asked. Her voice was labored and slow.

Mispy was green as ever. Her leaf seemed a bit wilted, and her eyes were lethargic. But then he saw it—little patches of rot along her right side, first. And then her left.

“Mispy, you must focus,” Nevren said.

“Huh?” Mispy said weakly.

“ _Focus_ , Mispy,” Nevren said. “Your healing aura. You must use it on both of us. Mispy? Mispy?” He shook her lightly. Her head bobbed limply.

Nevren tasted something metallic. He brought a hand up to his mouth, but then jerked it away. His hand was black and brown. He didn’t even _feel_ it. The skin was falling off. He spat—blood. He looked at Mispy again. Her eyes stared forward without aim.

Nevren dropped the dead Chikorita into the muck and dug into his bag. He slammed a rotten finger on the cyan button.

“Ngh—” Nevren stopped walking. Mispy squeaked, tipping forward atop his head.

“D-Dad?” Mispy asked.

“Ah—I’m sorry, Mispy. I got a horrible premonition,” Nevren said. “You must use your healing aura at all times from here on. Is that understood?”

“All the time?” Mispy said with a whine.

“Yes. Can you do this?”

“Okay.”

Nevren glanced at his arm. The black patches were already forming. But then he felt the energy radiate from Mispy, coursing through him. And the patches faded.

He sighed. “That’s very good, Mispy. Keep this up while we go through this area. This fog is not normal. It’s made of some strange, rotting energy. We must be careful when we approach, as it will only get thicker. Warn me if your energy is weakening.”

“Okay.”

They continued. Nevren attempted to float above the muck, but his Psychic powers were being suppressed by the fog, too. He had to go on foot. His bag dragged behind him, but he made sure that nothing emptied from it—particularly, his device. If he could just revise the moment, he’d be fine. He just hoped that a _moment_ was enough time.

They continued through. The fog thickened significantly. Nevren could barely see a few paces in front of him, and Mispy was starting to grow nervous. “Wh-what’s that?” she asked, strained.

“The end of the Dungeon. We’re quite close. Do you see that distortion? It’s a bit different than the others, because the other side is clearer, and the ripples are a bit stronger. That is the indicator that we are at the end of the Dungeon—or, perhaps,” Nevren trailed off. “Alternatively, it could simply be a pocket between the Dungeons’ halves. If that’s the case…” He sighed. “Then perhaps this will be more difficult than I thought.”

Nevren made a few strong steps to escape from the pond. The mud sloshed behind him, and his bag bumped heavily against his back. That bag was going to be burned when they got out of this place. He didn’t want to look down to know the condition of his mustache, but its newfound weight told the whole story.

He passed through the distortion of light, and Mispy’s heart sank.

“No,” Mispy moaned.

“Yes, indeed,” Nevren said. “Unfortunately, this is only a pocket. There is perhaps one more part of this Dungeon to go through.” He sighed to himself, gently rubbing at the stem of Mispy’s leaf. “A shame. But we can at least rest.” He looked around. “The fog is weak here. You may relax your healing and recover.”

Mispy sighed and collapsed; Nevren caught her gently and leaned against a tree—after checking that it wasn’t another feral. There, she pressed softly against his chest again.

Nevren took the time to clean the left half of his mustache first. Psychic waves squeezed at it, cleaning as much of the cursed mud off as he could. Then, he moved on to the left, until he was satisfied enough with its shade. It was browner than he would have liked. He then tried, to no avail, to clean his bag with the same methods. Unfortunately, the mud was deep inside its fibers. It wasn’t coming out. Lost cause.

Mispy tilted her head up. “Why are we here?” she finally asked, as if this question had been eating at her the whole way.

“For the Ghost vessel,” said Nevren.

“The… what?”

Nevren nodded. “The Ghost vessel. A few days ago, Hecto gave word that this cursed place was visited by a Goodra and a team of other Pokémon. This happens quite often, and we rarely see anybody return upon entering. Well, that Goodra never returned, indeed, but Hecto was able to observe that the Ghost Orb itself had been claimed, somehow. Incredible! I do not know what special talent this Goodra has, but it was enough to tame the Orb. That being said…” He eyed the surrounding area. “I can’t quite say the same thing about the surrounding area. It is still plagued by the rotting aura.”

“Mm,” Mispy trailed off. “Rot…”

“Yes. But it’s safe here, at least,” Nevren said. He dug through his bag and pulled out an apple, inspecting it carefully. It seemed slightly rotten on one side; with a precise, psychic motion, the apple split in half, and he discarded the blackened half. “Here,” he said, offering the half to Mispy.

She gratefully took it chomping ravenously. Nevren dug through the bag and pulled out a few berries. Most seemed rotten, and he had to discard them, but a few were miraculously preserved. “Here you go, as well,” he said.

“Don’t you,” Mispy said between bites, “need to eat, too?”

“Ah, I will last,” Nevren said.

Mispy paused if only to ask another question. “Star’s… blessing?”

“Well, it doesn’t make it so I don’t have to eat _at all_ ,” he said, “but, I shall last, yes.” Just then, his stomach let out a horrible rumble, and he was tempted to revise that moment to spare himself the embarrassment.

Mispy giggled, finishing the second berry. She then brought a vine over the final berry and offered it back to Nevren—a simple Oran Berry to fill his stomach, at least a small amount.

“Ah, there’s really no need,” he said, pushing the vine away gently. “You need the healing energy more than I do.”

“I’m full,” Mispy said.

“I know when you’re lying,” Nevren said.

“Just eat,” Mispy said, tossing it to him.

He caught it in his spoon, sighing. “Very well,” he said. He flicked the spoon upward, tossing the berry right into his mouth with precise aim. He relished the taste, breathing a small sigh through his nostrils.

Mispy giggled again, butting her head against his side. “Thank you.”

Nevren looked at Mispy, puzzled. “Hm? For what?”

Mispy looked up at his star-shaped face, tilting her head. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Hm.” Nevren looked past a gap in the dead trees. “Well. Thank you, as well.”

Mispy unsheathed her vines again, fiddling with them to pass the time. Nevren could tell that she was feeling better, but he gave her a bit more time to relax in this moment of calm. Then, she looked up at him again, and Nevren readied himself for her next question.

“How come we’re here? For the Ghost Orb?”

“The Ghost Orb? Well. Up until now, it was the only Orb that we were aware of. And we need to gather those Orbs together, yes? For Star’s sake.”

“Mm,” Mispy nodded, though she still seemed confused.

“Is something wrong?” Nevren asked.

“How come… Star can’t get them?” Mispy asked.

“Ahh, that is the question, isn’t it?” he said. “A number of factors prevent Star from gathering these herself. The first being that she simply isn’t strong enough.”

“S-Star? Not strong?”

Nevren shook his head. “She has power, but she doesn’t have the will to use it. She is a divine entity, Mispy. They operate in a slightly different way than we do, when it comes to their ability to unleash their power. And that power is limited further when they take on a physical form.”

“Oh,” Mispy said. “Physical. As in…”

“As in, with a body, in the world we live in. Star is _alive_ in a literal sense. By Arceus’ own design, gods cannot overpower mortals when in their own domain so easily. She is strong, but not strong enough to take _this_ on.” He waved his arm ahead at the fog of rot that seeped from the distorted light. “So, physically obtaining the Orbs is something she is not able to do. So, why not attempt to claim it from the spirit world?”

“Spirit?”

Nevren nodded. “The Orbs have a corresponding Core within the spirit world. They are a connection between the world of the living and the edge of the world of the dead.”

Mispy’s vacant eyes suggested she understood about half of what he said.

Nevren closed his. “That is to say,” he went on, “It is a special realm, adjacent to the spirit world. Like a neighbor of the real world. A place between our world and the next. What little divine energy is within them is enough to go _just_ far enough to make that connection.”

“Divine energy,” Mispy repeated, humming. “Weird.”

“Very weird, yes.”

“What is it?”

“Ah,” Nevren said. “Well. They are fragments of Arceus’ original, full power. When reality was created by his thousand arms and hands, Arceus possessed full dominion and power over it. Early on, he created the upper pantheon—including Star. There’s something special about Star, and I’m not quite sure what it is, but he values Star above all else. And she was likely the creative force behind, well, nearly all the species common to our lives.” Nevren looked up. “By my current educated guess, each of these Orbs contain twenty of those hands that Barky once used to shape the universe.”

“Twenty?” Mispy said, poking little holes in the mud with her tiny claws to count. “Grass… Fire… Water… Ghost…” she listed quietly.

Nevren smiled slightly. “There are just under 400 of Arceus’ original, divine hands within the Orbs in total. Just over a third. Star possesses a little less than a third, and Arceus retains the rest. And...” Nevren held out his hand, palm toward the sky. A single, thin filament of white light emerged, swaying in the air to its own, invisible currents, “I, as well as the other Holy Dragons, possess a single one, blessed upon us by Star and Arceus.”

Mispy stared at this filament, wide-eyed. “Wow,” she said in a soft whisper. She brought a vine out and tentatively prodded it. It felt like nothing, yet she could still feel its presence. It felt warm, but not to her body. “But, if you have one, and the Goodra has more…”

Nevren shook his head. “It’s not quite that simple. More hands does not mean more power. Not directly.”

Mispy tilted her head.

“In fact, in a small sense, every creature has a small amount of this same divine influence in them. Consider it the original blessing of Arceus, passed onto the rest of the world. The aura, and the enhancements they provide to the body, and the many attacks and techniques that Pokémon can learn.” Nevren stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “Yes, that ties all to the aura. Possessing a hand merely gives you a bit more of that influence, and lets you expand it further, warping and seizing reality just a _bit_ more firmly.”

“Reality?” Mispy said.

“Hmm,” Nevren considered this. “Essentially, it makes it easier for you to change the world, at least in a small sense. For example, with a bit of focus…” Nevren stared carefully at a rock. He reached out and picked it up, and then gently tossed it. He held his hand out and squinted, and the rock stopped falling, frozen in time. And then, after a second of that freeze, it resumed its fall. “Things like that can be done. I have been imbuing some of that divine energy into the technology I make. Delayed teleportation is another. I hope to imbue that power in little items, perhaps badges, or buttons, that one can carry around for emergencies…”

Mispy yawned. “Okay,” she said.

“A-ah, is this boring you?” Nevren asked.

“No, um, I just know,” she said.

Indeed, this was the third time that Nevren had talked about his badges and his theories. Nevren hoped that Mispy was at least _slightly_ interested in how he was able to do it.

“In—in any case, divine energy is infinite in supply, but finite in output. You need to build it up in order to utilize it properly, and even then, you must practice in how rapidly it can be released, and how much you can store. More hands simply means you can generate more of that power at a faster rate, to an extent.”

“Power to… change reality,” Mispy said.

“Yes,” Nevren said. “To an extent. I do wish I had a few more hands at my disposal. With enough power, you can consistently ignore gravity, and enhance your attacks considerably, to name a few techniques, and your sphere of influence expands quite a bit as well. The most _immediate_ example being,” he pointed at the fog, “this rotting smoke. It is certainly the influence of the Ghost Orb’s reality-warping properties, honed and mastered for, perhaps, centuries.”

Mispy stared uneasily at the black mist. What a horrible place. She should have been home, eating food and sleeping with Demitri. Instead she was here, where it was cold, and wet, and dark. No place for a little Chikorita like herself! She needed the sun. “Can you cancel it out?” Mispy asked.

“Theoretically,” Nevren said. “But I’m not nearly strong enough to cancel the influence of another set of hands. Not yet.” He slowly stood up. “I’m hoping to use sense and words with this new vessel instead to gain their favor. We can take the Orb from him, or we can negotiate an alliance of sorts. I will use my premonition to determine which would be best. Are you ready, Mispy?”

“Mhm.” Mispy wrapped her vines around Nevren’s shoulders. She hauled herself up and settled atop him again, resting between the star-shaped horns that jutted diagonally from his head.

“Very good. Let’s go,” he said.

 

The first thing that Nevren noticed upon entering the next series in the Dungeon was how thick the fog had suddenly become. Nevren worried that he would float in it if he wasn’t careful. Mispy was channeling her healing energy as quickly as she could, but even then, he felt a dull, bruise-like pain all throughout his lower body. He just didn’t have the stamina to deal with something like this on his own. Perhaps someone stronger, like Eon himself, would have withstood such a horrible rot, but he and Mispy were too delicate in their current states.

 _What a shame that she is a mere Chikorita,_ Nevren thought to himself. _If she hadn’t destabilized upon fusing with the others, perhaps this entire trip would have been trivialized._

But that was the past. Too far in the past to revise. The process they used to fuse together lasted longer than a moment—and, therefore, once he realized what was going wrong, he had no way to stop it from happening. He had to be extremely cautious about this fog. If it infected him for longer than his ability to revise, he would be finished.

He glanced above him, seeing Mispy’s vines dangling idly. “Are you doing well, Mispy?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Mispy said. “The fog isn’t up here.”

“Ah,” Nevren said. “You’re right. Be careful of your vines.”

“Oh.” Mispy jerked them upward.

The lack of creatures here unnerved him. Not a single Pokémon remained in this strange place. Perhaps the fog itself was so corrosive that even the wild Pokémon could not survive within it, not even the Ghosts themselves.

But then, he sensed another break in the Dungeon. “What is…?” he said.

“Distortion,” Mispy said, pointing at the light. It was strong, indicative of the end of a Dungeon’s influence.

“Yes, indeed. But I did not expect this place to be so… short. I was ready for an entirely new half—but that is certainly the exit. Let’s go.” He had his hand on his cyan emblem, and passed through the section.

Mispy gagged and covered her mouth with her vines. Nevren’s eyes watered, and the whiskers of his mustache twitched violently when his face wrinkled. The smell was impossible for Nevren to describe. The smell of death. Cold death that lasted for years. Sour rot and salty remnant. It permeated every iota of air.

Sitting in the middle of the exit, in a clearing surrounded by a lake of black mud, was the decaying remains of some large, slimy dragon. The once vibrant, purple form was blackened like the sludge that surrounded it. Pieces of its body were lying near the main lump, and its head was crooked back, mouth agape. Its thick tongue lolled out of the mouth, part of it already rotted away. Its eye sockets were empty, black holes that oozed some strange, brown-purple fluid.

He and Mispy could only stare at the sight for a full minute. “Awful,” Mispy said. “He’s… he’s dead.”

“A sad fate indeed,” Nevren nodded. “Mispy, can you sense any auras? We are outside of the Dungeon, now.”

“Oh—” Mispy nodded. “Okay.”

“There’s a high likelihood that the Ghost Orb is still within his body. I’ll have to dig through it. It is perhaps the least hygienic thing to do, but it must be done.” He tried to float above the muck, but the strange aura of the Ghost Orb persisted. He couldn’t levitate here, either, without strain. He elected to descend the old-fashioned way. It wasn’t very far. If the ground had been solid, the distance from the mud’s edge to its center was only four of his paces.

“Keep me healed, Mispy, just in case,” Nevren said.

“Okay.” Mispy kept her vines wrapped around his chest for leverage. She couldn’t take her eyes off the Goodra, even as she got closer.

Nevren waded through the sludge, and immediately realized that its consistency was thicker than usual. It was mud, yes, and rocks and decomposing plant matter. But it was also mixed with the natural slime that the Goodra species secreted, forming a mass so viscous that he could barely slog through it upon entry. It was like honey. The smell was even stronger here. It would take a week, without stopping, of washing to get rid of the grime from every corner of his body that descended into the pit.

And there he was, face-to-rotten-face with the decaying Goodra. Nevren figured that the Ghost Orb would be in the chest cavity, at the center of mass. He carefully moved forward, pressing his hand against the chest of the carcass. It had a lot of give. He pressed a bit further in, and the flesh tore away on both sides. The ribcage was far gone; he only had to pull away at a few of the—

The dead Goodra’s hand spasmed and snapped forward, holding Nevren’s outstretched arm. For a split-second, Nevren had never felt so frightened in his life. Time stopped in his mind.

“Aaauuuu…” the Goodra moaned, and its head tilted forward with a deep, horrible _cracking_ noise, twitching with each snapping vertebra. Nevren jerked his hand away, tearing the Goodra’s hand off from the sudden movement. Mispy screamed and let go of Nevren briefly. She violently lashed her vines toward the Goodra’s upper body. With a single motion, she smacked the Goodra’s head clean off. It rolled to the side, sinking into the mud.

Mispy kept screaming, but Nevren reached up and held her. “Mispy! Mispy, it’s okay,” Nevren said. “It’s okay—y-you knocked its head off, yes? It can’t—”

The Goodra’s body moved on its own. Nevren took in a sharp breath and doubled back, wading through the mid. He was done. This was too much. He did not agree to this sort of horror.

The undead Goodra had a much easier time wading through the mud, as if it flowed around him by his will. The headless Goodra with the exposed chest waded through the swamp blindly; it was hunched over, feeling through the sludge with its tiny arms. Nevren was completely out of the slime by now, just about ready to teleport away from this place, no matter where his attempt at teleporting would take him. Anywhere but here, in this surreal, undead presence.

“I want to wake up!” Mispy whimpered. “P-please!”

“I’m afraid this isn’t a dream, Mispy,” Nevren said.

The Goodra pulled from the swamp its own head and slapped it onto its exposed neck. It was on backwards, the feelers twitching in front. It grabbed itself by the cheeks and rotated. The bones popped into place with a dull _thud_. Then, he stared at Nevren with those empty, oozing eye sockets.

“H… huuu… huuooo…” the dead thing said.

Mispy’s little buds started to glow. Nevren held his hand on her neck. “It’s okay,” he said. “hang on.”

Mispy hopped off of Nevren’s head and landed behind him, hiding behind his legs.

“H—huu… hullooo…” the Goodra said.

Nevren gulped. “Y-yes, er, hello,” he said. It was sapient? Nevren looked at Mispy again. “Does it have an aura, Mispy?”

But she was too frazzled to sense anything. And then again, if it had the Ghost Orb within its being, its aura would look strange anyway. There was no telling—

“Whooo are youuuu?” the Goodra asked, sloshing forward through the slime. “I’m sssorrryyy,” he said slowly. “This bodyyy fffeeells weirrrd.”

“A-ah, so you are struggling to speak, because your body is not cooperating?” Nevren asked.

“Mmmm.”

Mispy was still staring, wide-eyed, at the undead Goodra. “D-does it hurt?” she asked.

“Hurrrt? Whyyy?”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Nevren said. “What a… strong reaction. I did not expect the Ghost Orb to behave this way. I thought it would be more, hm, ethereal, rather than… this.”

“Lots of ghoooosssts.”

“Y-yes, I’m sure there is. Goodra, you… befriended the spirits of that Orb, did you not?”

“Mmmhmmm.” He finally got out of the swamp, bumbling toward Nevren. The Alakazam responded by taking a step back. But the Goodra kept advancing until he was right in front of him, arms outstretched.

_No, no—not that habit—why does this Goodra need to follow such a horrible stereotype to—_

Nevren was lost to the squishy, slimy, decayed embrace of the rotten Goodra, pressed between his chest and his arms. He smelled of the the deaths of a thousand corpses; Nevren’s eyes watered uncontrollably.

“Yes, yes, it’s very good to meet you, too,” Nevren said, fishing desperately for his cyan badge. Revise, revise, revise! This _must_ be revised! He cannot allow himself to live through this moment. Anything to cut this short. He could dodge it, he’d do anything to avoid this literal touch with death. Mispy was standing behind him at this point, trembling in a strange, confused mixture of laughter and fear.

“Mmmmnnnn,” the Goodra said. “It was sooo sssscarrryyyy,” he said. “But… but then…!” he sniffled again, pulling Nevren closer. The Alakazam lost hold of his badge in that instant, and instead bumped against the exposed ribcage of the Goodra, which felt even softer than the last time. Was this Goodra melting under his own sheer power? Or was that just more of the rot permeating through every piece of the dragon’s decaying form?

Nevren finally got a hold of the Reviser. His eyes relaxed, and he heaved a slow sigh. Finally, he could escape. He pressed the button, ready to sidestep.

At first, Nevren thought nothing had happened. But then he realized he was a bit further away from the Goodra again. He was still wrapped in the Goodra’s embrace, and the smell of decay up close hit his nostrils for the first time, for the second time.

The moment had passed. And upon pressing the button, he had gone to the beginning of that moment to relive it again. Out of pure desperation, Nevren pushed the button for a second time, and a third, and a fourth, putting his hand in his bag early just to try, not caring about any signs of aggression he may have been displaying to break free. The Goodra was oblivious to it all. And the button did nothing; its gray, indifferent color indicating that there was nothing he could do to revise further than he’d already gone.

And so, he had to last another moment, repeated, in the Goodra’s dead arms. It was the first time in perhaps centuries he wished to cry. And perhaps he was, if only for the stench—and if only for the experience that he had to relive for the second time, stinging all five of his senses. The air was so thick, indeed, that he could _taste_ it. It reminded him of when Eon had forgotten to empty the broken fridge in storage. It had been a decade. It had its own ecosystem.

“Mmmmnnnn,” the Goodra said. “It was sooo sssscarrryyyy,” he said. “But… but then…!”

“I—I’m sure it was very frightening,” Nevren said, returning to his senses. “Please—I beg of you—I am struggling to breathe.”

“Ohhhh!” The Goodra released him, and Nevren fell backwards and onto the dirt. The residual slime on his back made the ground stick to him, and he remained there, staring at the empty-eyed Ghost-Dragon from below.

Mispy wrapped her vines around Nevren and helped tug him free, chunks of dirt remaining on his back.

Nevren composed himself with a steady breath, tuning out—to the best of his ability—the sensations that permeated the air. He then glanced down at his Revisor, then back at the Goodra. It was blue again, but if he pressed it now, he’d have to relive that for a third time. He counted the seconds in his head, just to be sure that he wouldn’t have to, and the next moment revised would be one without the hug of death.

“Now, Goodra, I—suppose I should introduce myself,” Nevren stalled. “My name is Alakazam Nevren, and this is my daughter, Chikorita Mispy. And you are?”

“I’mmmm Goooodra Anammmm.”

“It’s very good to meet you, Anam,” Nevren said, still counting the seconds.

Mispy eyed Nevren curiously, but then asked, “Is he… evil?”

“Eeevil?” Anam repeated. “Nnnooo.”

“I strongly doubt Anam has an evil bone in his body,” Nevren said. He also doubted he had any bones at all.

That was enough time, Nevren figured. He could finally—and safely—put to work what he was intending to do in the first place. “Goodra Anam, could you face me for a moment?”

“Hmmmm?”

Nevren’s eyes flashed, and a wave of psychic energy infested Anam’s mind. The Goodra’s empty eyes bulged, and he roared, clutching his head. Mispy yelped in surprise and hopped backwards; Nevren stepped away, too, but then Anam lunged forward and grabbed him by the throat. Nevren wheezed in surprise, clutching the Badge.

“You dare,” Anam said—his voice suddenly warped and buzzing with a thousand different tones, “control the dead?! Become one yourself!”

Nevren slammed his claw on the Revisor.

He was standing again, and Anam was right in front, tilting his head.

“Are youuu okaaay?” he asked.

“H-hm? Yes. I’m fine. Why?”

Mispy’s leaf flicked. “You were… introducing?”

“A-ah. Yes. My name is Alakazam Nevren, and this is Chikorita Mispy, my daughter. And you, Goodra?”

“I’mmmm Goooodra Anammmm.”

“It’s very good to meet you, Anam,” Nevren lied.

Mispy eyed Nevren curiously, but then asked, “Is he… evil?”

“Eeevil?” Anam repeated. “Nnnooo.”

Nevren was no longer sure. But he played along. “I highly doubt Anam is malevolent, Mispy. He merely… _appears_ to be scary.”

He glanced at his bag. The gray button regained its glow. He could try again. This time, he’d do it with a bit more subtlety. Anam was too strong to control outright. He seemed dim-witted, and his mind was open, but there was more to this Goodra than he had initially given credit. So, he’d have to be slower. Smaller thoughts. Disturb the subconscious mind, and perhaps…

“Well, Anam, I came here to ask you about something,” Nevren said.

“Oohhhh?”

“Yes,” Nevren said, sending a much weaker, subtler wave toward the Goodra, this time acting on his deeper mind, pieces that he won’t notice. If there was one thing he could appreciate about having only a single hand of Arceus, it was that it allowed for very minute, precise changes to his reality. “I was wondering, why did you come in here? Why did you go into this wretched place?”

“Ohh, I waaaanted toooo seeee mm… mmmm…” Anam stared at Nevren for a bit longer, those void-like eyes widening a little.

 _Yes, just a little more,_ Nevren said. Just to be careful, he kept hanging onto his Revisor. “You wanted to see who, Anam?”

Anam was quiet.

This sort of pause wasn’t supposed to go for this long. “Who did—”

Arrows suddenly plunged into Nevren’s back, and the sharp pain nearly made him pass out. He turned for only an instant and saw a Decidueye glaring at him. Mispy gaped, wide-eyed and frozen. The Decidueye said something, but the pain Nevren felt made whatever was said flow in one ear and out the other. Nevren slammed his hand on the button.

“Eeevil?” Anam repeated. “Nnnooo.”

Nevren was quiet. Mispy shifted uncomfortably behind him, as if waiting for Nevren to confirm Anam’s words.

“Y-yes,” Nevren said. “Anam is not evil. He is a vessel of the Ghost Orb. Right now, his body is adjusting to its power, and he is taking on a… Ghostly form. It must be reacting very strongly to him, for some reason.”

“Wellll, this happened to me firssst.”

“Ah, is that it?” Nevren asked. “So, this transformation was only partially due to the Orb. The rest was, ahh, you must have withstood quite a bit to get here.”

That Decidueye was watching him from somewhere. He knew it. The last time Nevren had come here, that Decidueye tried to kill him all the same. Why did he seem so familiar? He never knew a Decidueye. It didn’t matter. Nevren only knew that the ghostly spirit would be suspicious of anything he tried.

The modification would have to be a subtle thing, so subtle that perhaps only a single, tiny, insignificant thought could be nudged at a time. Nevren tried that, next. He drew into that single hand he possessed, and tried once again to modify Anam’s mind. Just one thought. A simple thought, implanted, that he, the strange Alakazam before him, seemed friendly.

And he stopped there. He had to add little faults in his mind like that until Anam was open enough, and vulnerable enough, to manipulate quickly, and outright. Anam, the new vessel of the Ghost Orb, was too strong to fight, even now. He checked the button again. It was back to glowing, so he could try again. Around this time, he had been attacked by the Decidueye. But not now. It went unnoticed. The thought persisted. It was _possible_ , but how long would it take?

He had to get the Orb, no matter what. Anam was too much of a threat to Eon and the others as its host.

“I like youuu,” Anam suddenly said.

“A-ah?” Nevren asked, and he was ready to hit the Revisor again when he came toward him. But this time, Anam held out his cold, dead hand.

“I want youuuu to commmme hommme with mmmeee.”

Mispy shivered. “S-scary m-monster.”

“Ssscarryyy?” Anam asked.

“Your manner of speech is frightening Mispy,” said Nevren.

“Ohh, I’m sorryyy,” He held his jaw, trying to adjust it. “Everythinggggss brokennn.”

“M-maybe I can h-heal?” Mispy asked.

“Heaaalll?”

Mispy focused and blasted Anam with a rush of healing energy. Residual fog in the air evaporated into empty air. Anam flinched at the light, and the rest of his body blackened considerably, but at the same time, his jaw and chest closed up. While dark, he looked whole again.

Anam slapped his cheeks lightly, and then adjusted his feelers. They retracted into his skull and then slid back out to their full length, nearly down to his tail, and then returned to their neutral, limp position behind him. “Wow!” Anam said. “I feel great!”

Mispy sighed, relieved. At least now he didn’t look like an animated corpse. The eyes, though. They were still completely black.

“Thank you! I can talk a lot better, now! I guess I must’ve been more hurt than I thought.” He giggled.

“Y-yes, well,” Nevren said, “it’s very good that you’re in better shape. “Now, what was that about wanting me to… come home with you?”

“Oh, right,” Anam said. “Umm, yes! I live in Quartz Crater.”

“The center mountain? There’s a settlement there?”

“Yeah! It’s a big climb, but most Wild Pokémon can’t get there very easily, and we can see them coming. Plus, there aren’t any Dungeons there yet, either! So it’s nice and stable. The perfect spot!”

“I see,” Nevren said. “Quartz Crater…”

“Do you want to become a Heart?”

“…What?” Nevren asked.

“Yeah! Umm—!” Anam turned around and dug through the swamp, pulling out what looked like a little, dull stone. Wiping away the grime, the natural shine of the object pushed through. There was a badly-clawed insignia of a heart on the front. “Here! This is a badge that makes you a member of the Hundred Heart Association!”

Nevren took the badge and rolled it in his hand. “This is solid gold,” he stated. “Anam, how in the _world_ did you acquire enough gold to create these Badges?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Anam asked. “What’s a gold? I’ve just been getting as many rocks as I could that I could carve a heart into so it looks pretty! This one is a little lumpy.”

“I—I see. So, you just _happen_ to have a gold ingot?”

“Mhm! I prayed to Arceus for good fortune, and I think He answered!”

“Hm, I see,” Nevren said, unconvinced. “So, you’re saying that you happened upon this gold piece by chance? How lucky.”

“Well, some of my friends helped melt it out of other rocks, too. And we made a bunch of other Badges, too! But this is the only one I could make with this material.” Anam stared down quietly. “My friends…” he said softly.

“Well, in any case,” Nevren said, “I would be happy to accompany you home, but I will need some time to prepare.”

Mispy gulped, looking at the drops of black, sticky slime that plopped on the ground. She followed the source to the Goodra’s face. “Umm,” she said.

Nevren eyed Anam. “Are you crying?” he said. Had he said something incorrect? His hand hovered over the Revisor.

“N-no, I’m… not! I’m… happy,” Anam sniffled, wiping his eyes. “It’s j-just been a… r-really stressful day.”

“I can imagine,” said Nevren. “Well. In any case, once I have my obligations in order, I will meet you in Quartz Crater. It will take a few days for me to travel there from where I live, of course, but you should be able to wait. Is that fair?”

“Okay! I’ll see you then, and, um, travel safe, okay?”

“I will.” Nevren looked to Mispy. “Now then, let’s return home, Mispy. Compared to here, the rest of our excursion will be easy.”

“Um,” Mispy hesitated. “Will… will he be okay?” she pointed her leaf at Anam.

“Quartz Mountain is quite close to here,” Nevren said. “For a Pokémon of his size, it shouldn’t take longer than a quarter of the day. Our trip will be much longer.”

“Where do you live, anyway?” Anam asked.

“Ah, I live in the Southeastern Archipelago,” Nevren said.

“Oh, wow, that’s a corner of the world!” Anam said.

“Indeed,” Nevren said. “So, please understand if we take a bit longer. I promise you, however, that I will return within a week’s time.”

“A what’s time?” Anam asked, tilted his head.

“Within seven days. My apologies. The Archipelago has odd terminology for the passage of time.”

“Ohh, okay. I’ll see you in seven days, Nevren!” Anam held out a hand. Figuring that nothing would be lost after how much grime already covered him, the Alakazam returned the favor, and they shook.

 

Dark wood floors met white marble walls, though neither were visible in the total darkness. The whole world was silent in this room, except for a weak, single gurgling noise in the corner, atop a wooden bed and thick mattress, large enough to hold a Charizard. There was a blanket on top of this mattress with a smooth texture, stuffed with cotton. It was blissful, being able to sleep under the covers, letting the dull heat of the body course through the pocket of air.

And then, a disturbance. Someone knocked on the door, and the peace was broken. “Eon.”

“Mrrrgh. What is it, Hecto? Star had to go, get over it…”

“That is not the reason for my call. I also do not appreciate your nonchalance toward Star’s absence.”

The gurgling stopped and was replaced by shuffling in the bed. A Zygarde, an exact copy of Hecto, slid off of the bed and walked clumsily to the door. He went on his hind legs and pushed it open, eyes straining in the sudden light. “Ngh.” Eon shook his head. “What time is it?”

“It is noon. You overslept.”

“What happened to your ribbon… thing?” he asked, observing that the green scarf-like extension on his neck was short, ending in a jagged taper.

“Trapinch have very strong jaws,” Hecto stated. “I have yet to ask Mispy to repair the damage.”

“Mispy?” Eon yawned. “She left with Nevren for the Ghost Orb.”

“They have returned.”

“A-already?” Eon said, jolting.

“It has been a week,” Hecto stated. “The Rotwood Fen is quite far, and Nevren does not have the energy to perform Teleport so often. He has not perfected the technique due to the Dungeon anomalies interfering with his power. That was his explanation.”

“A whole week, already?” Eon muttered. “Where did all that time go?”

“You have spent the past five days sleeping, eating, and brooding,” Hecto stated.

“There’s no need to remind me,” Eon hissed. “I’m merely thinking about our next steps. Nevren’s first plan clearly didn’t work, and now we have to figure out how to stabilize their auras. And what is Rhys suggesting, again? Meditation? What pseudoscience is that?” Eon grunted, rubbing his face with his paw. “I need a snack.”

“It will take centuries to stabilize their auras that way,” Hecto said. “But it is better than nothing.”

“Nothing. Hmph. Are you insinuating that _I’m_ doing nothing?” Eon asked. “I was the one to send Nevren off, wasn’t I? Why, without me—”

“I do not question your leadership,” Hecto said, lowering his head without expression.

“Well… well, that’s good,” Eon said, straightening. The duplicate Zygarde walked down the marble halls. “We need to renovate this place,” he said. “It’s too… sterile.”

“Hm. Star expressed something similar.”

“Yeah… Star…” Eon trailed off. “Curse that disgraced Creator for forcing her to withdraw.”

Hecto’s left paw twitched slightly. “She wants you to keep fighting, Eon. All of us. No matter what Arceus has to say about it.”

Eon grunted. “Of course.”

They continued through the hall, and once they entered a large chamber—complete with a small couch and light fixture—Eon spotted the Alakazam sitting on a chair with Mispy resting on his lap, asleep. “Hello, Eon. Er, I imagine that is Eon. Ah, yes, it is.” He only knew because one of the Zygarde transformed into an Alakazam upon being addressed.

“Hello, Nevren,” said the Alakazam. “How did it go? I do not sense any new power from you.”

“Unfortunately,” Nevren said, “the Ghost Orb and its vessel is too powerful to overcome.”

“Even with that lucky charm of yours?” Eon mocked.

“I’ll have you know, it’s quite useful,” Nevren said, pulling out his Revisor.

“What’s a little charm like that gonna do for you?” Eon sighed. “Honestly, for someone so scientific, I don’t get how you can be so superstitious about something that turns gray every now and then.”

Nevren sighed. “It doesn’t turn gray for no reason,” he said. “It can look a moment into the future. If it turns gray, it means I must be cautious. It’s incredibly useful, don’t you th—”

Nevren was blasted backwards by an intense Psychic blast. The wind was knocked out of him, and Mispy squeaked, crying out in pain.

“N-Nevren!” Eon gasped, running over. “I—you were supposed to dodge that! I—I didn’t mean to—”

Nevren slammed on the button.

“Hello, Nevren,” said Eon. “How did it go? I do not sense any new power from you.”

Nevren paused for just a moment, but then nodded. “Unfortunately,” he said, “the Ghost Orb and its vessel is too powerful to overcome.”

“Even with that lucky charm of yours?” Eon mocked.

“I’ll have you know, it’s quite useful,” Nevren said, resting his hand on his bag.

“What’s a little charm like that gonna do for you?” Eon sighed. “Honestly, for someone so scientific, I don’t get how you can be so superstitious about something that turns gray every now and then.”

Nevren sighed, but he mentally braced himself. “It doesn’t turn gray for no reason,” he said. “It can look a moment into the future. If it turns gray, it means I must be cautious. It’s incredibly useful, don’t you—”

Nevren countered Eon’s surprise blast with his own Psychic; this caused the air around them to abruptly twist into a small twister, startling Mispy awake. Eon grunted and stumbled back, feeling some of the aftershock. He was less experienced as an Alakazam, and Nevren knew this; it was trivial to counter his blast, _when it wasn’t a cheap shot_.

“Hm, well,” Nevren said, raising his Revisor. “Would you look at that? My _good luck charm_ warned me that you would try something on me. Do you see the gray color?”

“You don’t say,” Eon muttered, watching the Revisor turn cyan again. “Nrgh. I’ll outsmart it one day. Just you wait. I’m almost _positive_ I had a dream of actually striking you with that blast, too!”

“Yes, but that will remain but a dream and fantasy,” Nevren said with a nod. “I imagine you would be very unhappy if you succeeded. You could have hurt poor Mispy.”

Mispy was already asleep again.

“Ng—w-well, then, it’s a good thing I held back,” Eon grunted.

He nodded, but then set Mispy down on the cushion and walked with Eon down the hall. Hecto followed wordlessly.

 _Lies. That was your strongest blast,_ Nevren thought. “Well, it all works out. In any case, my Danger Medallion, or as you call it, my _lucky charm_ , I was able to speak to and befriend the Goodra that became the vessel of the Ghost Orb. There was no way Elder would have convinced him to give up that power, unfortunately.” Nevren nodded. “The spirits are too hostile. Additionally, I tried to convince him with a wipe of the mind, or rather, I planned to, but my Foresight Charm warned me quite strongly against it. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“I see. So, there’s no way for us to take the power from him, at all?” Eon asked.

This gave Nevren pause. “There is one way.” He stopped walking, and Eon and Hecto did the same.

“So, you already have an idea?” Eon asked.

“Yes.” Nevren said. “I do not know how long it will take, and I do not know how effective it will be unless I wait for a very long time, but I was able to implant a single, simple thought that I seemed friendly, without raising any suspicion. If I can do small thoughts like that every few days or weeks…” Nevren hummed in thought. “Over time, I can weaken his subconscious mind, and perhaps then get what we need out of him. We could even get a new ally out of this.”

“A thought every few weeks? A single thought?”

“It will grow.”

“For how long, Nevren?” Eon said. “The way you’re talking about this—I don’t know what will take longer, repairing the fusions’ auras, or converting the new Ghost vessel.”

“I do not know, either,” Nevren said. “But the Goodra is naïve and trusting. I doubt he will catch on. Yes…” Nevren tapped his claws against the back of his hand. “In time, he will be under my control and not even realize it, Eon. Then we can use his power to claim the other Orbs, once we find them, don’t you think?”

“That’s a bit reaching,” Eon said. “I’d rather go after the Orbs the normal way, if we can actually _find_ them.”

Nevren nodded. “But until then, perhaps that will be my plan. I promised Anam—that’s the Goodra’s name—that I would meet him once I had my obligations finished at my home. It’s quite a far travel… but the first thing I will invest my time in will be that Waypoint system I had mentioned to you before. With some luck, travel from here to there would not be so burdensome.” Nevren eyed Eon. “You are uncomfortable.”

“Of course I am,” Eon said, crossing his arms. “You’re leaving this place in order to see some random Goodra? Isn’t that a bit risky, being the Ghost vessel, of all people?”

“Possibly, but we don’t have a choice in the matter,” Nevren said. “And there is actually something we can use there, Eon. He is the leader of the Hundred Heart Association. With his newfound power, perhaps he can go even further. Not only would we gain an ally in Anam, but perhaps an entire army. On my way home, in fact, I sensed an odd presence. Creatures with strange auras scouting the land. We have never seen movement like that before, have we?”

“What is this? Scouting? What sort of creature?”

“Various Pokémon. All kinds,” Nevren said. “I don’t think we are the only ones hunting for the Orbs, Nevren. Perhaps the Holy Dragons loyal to _Arceus_ are still around after all.”

Eon hummed again. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen them. I… I do wish we could have made up. We used to be such a great team.”

“All in the past, I’m afraid,” Nevren said. “In any case, aligning with Anam will be my goal. I will return here every now and then to continue my research and assistance, and… Eon. Don’t look so betrayed. It is not as if I’m leaving for good.”

“I—I’m not betrayed at all,” Eon said, turning away.

Nevren sighed. “Once I can get the Waypoints operational, travel will be trivial. Can you hold out for at least a little while until then?”

Eon pouted. “I suppose so,” he said.

With a short silence, Nevren nodded. “In any case, that is all that I have on the matter. Thank you, Eon,” he said.

“I believe Eon is becoming increasingly lonely,” Hecto observed.

“Y-you will _not_ make assumptions like that,” Eon said instantly. “I’m just worried. I don’t want to lose anybody else to silly debates.”

“A schism between Mew and Arceus is hardly silly,” Nevren pointed out.

“It’s beginning to be,” Eon said.

Nevren didn’t have a counter. Instead, he conceded with a nod, and refocused the subject. “We have to focus on ourselves for now. For Star. And if Barky’s Holy Dragons are making moves to gather the Orbs, perhaps we should do the same as Star’s Holy Dragons. Yes?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Eon agreed. “Rrmf. Speaking of Holy Dragons. The Goodra. It’s a long shot, but seeing as Madeline….”

“Anam is not Madeline,” Nevren said. “For one, she would never be so easily manipulated. And secondly, Anam is male. And I would _never_ expect Madeline to _hug_ somebody.”

“The Goodra hugged you?”

“You will never bring this up again.”

Eon held his arms up.

Nevren rubbed at his left mustache. “In any case, that is my plan. I hope you are satisfied.”

“Wait,” Eon said.

“Yes?”

Eon held out his hand. “If you go… we need some insurance should something go wrong.”

“…I see,” Nevren said. He stared uneasily at Eon’s hand. “A Divine Promise, then?”

“If… it is not too much to ask,” Eon said.

“Well, asking me to make a Divine Promise implies that you cannot trust me at my word alone,” said Nevren.

“It isn’t you that I am worried about,” Eon said. “It is that Goodra. If he harms you… and takes away your power—we’ll be down a hand!”

“One of a thousand, Nevren. An Orb is nearly twenty times more valuable.”

“Regardless, I don’t want to take such a chance.” Eon said. “Nevren… do you Promise not to lose your hand to another?”

Nevren stared. “…Eon,” he said calmly, “I cannot Promise that.”

“Wh—why not?!” Eon said. “It’s perfectly reasonable! If you lose your power, I’ll get it instead.”

“That isn’t how it works, Nevren. You are asking me to give you power that I would no longer have. The Promise would take effect once I lose that power. Therefore, you will gain zero hands when I break that Promise.”

“Wh—well, wouldn’t I get the power that the other person got?”

“Promises are tied to the person, not the power, Eon.” Nevren sighed. “And I am not about to Promise not to be _in danger_ of losing my power, either, because that is so broad—who knows how it would be interpreted. You need to be very careful with how Promises are phrased, Eon.”

“Nrgh… well then, you come up with a Promise, smart guy.” Eon huffed.

Nevren sighed. “I don’t think there is one that is good enough to satisfy you, Eon, while still being practical. You will just have to take me at my word that I will return, and—”

“I’ve got it,” Eon said, slamming his right hand into his left palm. “Promise me that you’ll return in two weeks!”

“…You are becoming codependent, Eon,” Nevren and Hecto both said.

“Th-that is beside the point. I do not want a fellow Holy Dragon to be away for too long in a world like that, let alone next to that— _thing_ —for too long. C-can’t you send Rhys with you, too?”

“Rhys has to tend to Mispy and the others,” Nevren said, “and I highly doubt he will leave without Elder, and he’s much too slow for travel.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Also, two weeks is a bit broad. If a storm arrives or some other impediment, that Promise may break accidentally. But if it will make you feel more secure for yourself…” He sighed. “Three weeks. Will that do?”

Eon grumbled, squeezing his arms with his claws. “Fine, three weeks.”

Nevren shook his head, holding his hand out. “Then I hereby Promise that within three weeks, that is, within twenty-one revolutions of the world, I shall return here, indicated by stepping onto these marble floors, or however you renovate it by the time I return. Do you accept these terms?”

Eon grinned. “I accept,” he said.

Their hands glowed. The light faded, and the Promise was made.


	52. Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group splits off in an effort to get some final errands done for the day. Most of the ground-bound individuals foot it to Kilo Village. On the way, Demitri and Mispy question their existence.

“Is he still sulking?” Jerry said.

“Looks like it,” Star said.

Owen was pacing through Hot Spot Cave’s main road, waiting for everybody else to settle in and discuss their next steps. Enet was bathing with Gahi and Amia in the cave’s nearby hot springs, washing off the stench of Ghrelle and Ano’s poisoned swamp. Enet, in particular, was desperate to get it out of her fur. Rhys and Elder had retreated to Rhys’ home again to relax together. The rest were milling about, decompressing after their successful or failed Guardian recovery attempts, followed by witnessing Owen get his throat slashed by an outlaw.

The current talk seemed to be checking up on Anam, and sending Jerry over to Kilo Village again. While Jerry wasn’t looking forward to it, he also didn’t protest it outright. The way they talked, perhaps Anam _was_ merciful enough to give him another chance, foolish as it may be, in Jerry’s opinion. If someone wronged _him_ in that way, he wouldn’t have trusted that person for the rest of his life. It seemed like Jerry was still searching for an escape route, however. With so many around—particularly with Star right next to him—it wasn’t easy.

Owen stopped walking and turned, following the same path backwards with his head down. He was running the battle through his head over and over, looking for ways that he could have improved, scenarios where he wouldn’t have lost. There was also a pit of guilt in his stomach for looking down at Jerry, but also apprehension. Why should he have thought so highly of him in the first place? He was an outlaw! He was the sort of person Owen was assigned to take _down_.

“Bahh, what’s his deal?” Jerry rubbed a wing on his forehead. “One loss and he’s bluer than a Mudkip’s rump.”

“Well, it _was_ a bit of a beatdown,” Star said. “What, he only landed one hit on you, right?”

“Hmph,” Jerry said. “Look, I fought, and I won, so there’s no reason he should be mad at me for doing what I was asked to do. What, unless he wanted me to lose?”

“That’s kinda the point of fighting, but, I see what you mean,” Star said.

Jerry glanced to his right. Near the central square, Mispy, Gahi, and Demitri were watching Owen pace. Whenever he met eyes with Gahi or Mispy, the glare they gave him nearly caused paralysis.

He flinched. “What’s their story, anyway?” he said.

“Genetic weapons meant to fuse together, but the fusing part broke them the first time, so we’re gonna be more careful about it,” Star said. “It’s kinda a long story.”

“You don’t say,” Jerry said. “So, Vines is their healer?”

“Pretty much. Demitri, the Haxorus, he’s most of their offense. Gahi, the Flygon, he’s their speed. And Owen ties it all together with, uh, I guess they call it his Awareness ability.”

“Awareness? You mean how he doesn’t need to _see_ to see what’s going on around him?”

“Yeah,” Star said. “Something about expanding his aura to inhabit the world immediately around him. Pretty crazy stuff.”

“It also slows him down. I think I figured out how to put him in a trance by just breaking rocks in the sky. His eyes were going all over the place.”

“Yeah, Owen isn’t used to his powers. It’s been almost half a millennium of re-living being a Charmander over and over again. He’ll need time for all those memories to reassemble, even if he thinks he remembers it all. He doesn’t. It’s just too much to absorb.”

Jerry nodded. “And if they fuse together, they’ll get all their powers in one fighter?”

“In theory,” Star said. “But in practice, there’s some tradeoff. Gahi and Owen fused together won’t be as fast as Gahi alone. Still fast, though.”

“Who designed ‘em?” Jerry asked. “You said they were genetic, eh, whatsits. So that means they were _created_?” He flapped his wings in protest. “Why am I even bothering, at this point? Between the quartet of freaks, the immortal nutcases, and _literally God_ in front of me, I’m starting to think this is just a dream from starvation, and I’m halfway rotting in the swamp.”

Star sighed, rubbing her forehead. “…Actually, yeah. How come I’m telling you this?” Star suddenly realized. “I’m gonna have to wipe your memory of the past day, I think. This stuff isn’t supposed to get out.”

“N-no way, I don’t wanna forget pounding that guy into the ground!” Jerry waved his wing toward Owen. “I won’t tell anyone! Okay? Just let me keep this one.”

“Hnn,” Star hummed pensively.

Jerry stood there in a tense silence, suddenly realizing that Star hadn’t been kidding. She really _would_ try to wipe his memories. “I—I don’t want to forget what you told me, either,” Jerry added. “About Mom, and…”

Star’s tail drooped. “Had to pull that one on me, huh?” She groaned. She rubbed her paws on her face, scratching her eyelids. “Fine. But you aren’t telling _anyone,_ got it? Otherwise, I’ll hunt you down and wipe it all away. I’ll replace it with humiliating memories, too, like, uh… I dunno. I’ll think of something. Getting beaten by a Pachirisu, maybe.”

“Deal,” Jerry said, folding his wings to his side again. “Alright, well, I guess if that’s the case, I think I’m just gonna bail.”

“Uh—wait, don’t you still need to serve time?” Star said. “You know, being an outlaw and all that.”

“Whaaat, you’re still on about that? C’mon, isn’t melting and almost getting absorbed into some crazy Altaria’s muck enough punishment?” Jerry continued walking; by now, he was getting the attention of the others in town, and his pace quickened.

“You’re still wanted for fleeing your sentencing,” Star pointed out, raising her voice when he got further away. That drew the attention of the rest; it looked like Gahi in particular was about to give chase. “You don’t want to make your Mom sad, do you?”

Jerry stopped instantly. For five seconds, he didn’t move. The crowd that had gathered held still, too. Then, he turned around. “Don’t you _dare_. That’s _low_.”

“That’s _true_ ,” Star countered firmly.

Owen broke out of his thoughts to watch Jerry. He could sense the flare of the Aerodactyl’s aura. His face was twisted into some strange mixture of—he didn’t even know what. Anger? Sadness? Both? All of it?

But something more worrying came up. Jerry’s feet were starting to look a bit purple.

“Uh—!” Mispy said, and abruptly brought a vine toward Jerry.

He reflexively jumped away. “Get away from me!” he hissed. “I don’t need—”

He fell back when he lost his footing—and his feet. He hit the ground hard and grunted. “Wh-what’s happening?! N-no! I thought I was—!”

Mispy’s vines extended across the rocky cavern and grabbed Owen. The Charizard yelped when he was pulled all the way to Mispy, plunged into her body. Seconds passed—by now, Jerry was missing his legs. Omi, the fusion of Owen and Mispy, opened her eyes and wrapped her vines around Jerry. His feet returned and he, shaken, stood up.

“Hmm,” Star said. “Maybe we should take you to Emily after all. Omi’s power can only reverse the effects, not remove the condition completely. Too bad. I guess we can fly you over to her instead.”

“Wh-what’ll happen if I melt completely?  I just—die?” Jerry asked.

“At best,” Star replied. “You could also just be stuck like that until Ghrelle gets you. Or maybe your aura just gets claimed by her? I dunno. All I know is, auras that get caught up in Ghrelle’s power don’t go through the aural sea. It’s a little disturbing, but I can’t do anything about it. Ghrelle isn’t my turf.”

Jerry gulped and held a claw tightly around his scarf. “Guess I’m a Mew worshipper now.”

“Yeah, I don’t want that,” Star muttered.

“Can you teleport us to Emily? Our Badges aren’t charged yet,” Omi said.

“No can do, bud,” Star sighed. “Thing is, the way I’m summoned right now, I’m kinda powerless. I’d only be able to teleport myself at best. And then, being so far away from my summoner, I’d probably evaporate in seconds. You’ll have to get to her on foot—uh, or by wing.”

“By wing, huh,” Jerry said. “I’m not gonna fly if I might melt halfway there.”

“Maybe if I…” Omi grabbed the Pecha Scarf still wrapped around Jerry’s neck and focused on it again. Star tilted her head curiously.

“Huh, that reminds me,” Star said, “kinda surprised you figured out this technique.”

“What’s it called?” Omi asked. “I—um, Owen tried to do something—anything—to save Jerry, so… he thought a Pecha Scarf would counter the poison.”

“Well, that’s one way to approach it,” Star said. “Actually, what really happened here is that Owen sorta,” Star paused, “blessed that Scarf to have a different effect.”

“Blessed,” Omi repeated.

“Yeah! I mean, all special Scarves are blessed. Pecha Scarves naturally ward off poison, Prism scarves help to stabilize the mind…. It’s not rocket sci—I mean, it’s not too complicated. Owen just made his own custom scarf with the power of his Mystic energy. Probably something like a, I dunno, something that can maintain your form? Hang on, gimme that for a second.” Star floated over and grabbed the scarf.

Jerry possessively pressed his wing on it, pinning it on his neck. Star rolled her eyes and inspected it without touching.  “…Yeah… yeah, y’know, it seems like this Scarf is some sort of Mystic version of a Heal Seed now. Nifty! I’m gonna call it… a Stable Scarf!”

“You’re not a very creative god, are you?” Jerry asked.

“H-hey, I’m totally creative! I made, like, almost all the regular Pokémon species!”

“Over how much time?” Jerry asked. “Figure you had _eons_ to come up with ideas.”

“W-well, l-let’s see you come up with something from nothing,” Star puffed her cheeks. She shoved Jerry harmlessly and turned to Omi. “Good thinking, Owen. As long as Jerry wears that scarf, he’ll be okay. You guys and a small team should go to Emily and heal him up. Maybe she can purify his aura of Ghrelle’s influence. While you guys do that, maybe make a quick stop at Nate’s place.”

“Nate?” Omi asked.

“The Dark Guardian. Maybe we can win him over? To be honest, he’s another one that I don’t really keep in contact with all that much. He’s kinda creepy, and didn’t align with me explicitly, either. So, I don’t really know where his head’s at. And it’s on the way there, if you take the southern way to Em’s place. Then, the rest of us can go to Kilo Village to see how everything’s going there.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me!” Omi said.

“Good. Then let’s not waste any time. Let’s divide up!”

 

The largest group flew toward the south with the intention of passing over the Chasm of the Void on the way to Emily’s. The trip, by wing, would take them the rest of the day, and they’d only be able to get back home before sunrise if they used their charged Badges from Emily’s cave. The ones that _could_ fly easily went on this trip, leaving the ground-bound individuals—Mispy, Demitri, Elder, and Rhys, who refused to leave Elder’s side—headed to Kilo Village on foot from Hot Spot Cave, intending to use the nearby public Waypoint instead. Accompanying the Hunters and their two students was Valle, Enet, ADAM, Willow, and Step, some of whom were curious about what this village would be like.

Demitri was riding on Mispy’s back, absentmindedly playing with one of the petals around her neck. Mispy wrapped a few vines around Demitri and anchored him against her back while they walked, eliciting a chuckle from Elder.

“Rhys, why don’t you ride atop my back as well?” Elder said.

“E-Elder, are you… are you sure?” he asked.

“Well, it would be just like old times, would it not?” he replied. “Oho, I saw that glow in your eye, Rhys. I do not mind.”

“The Torkoal walks slowly,” Step said. “At the rate we are walking, we will get to town in two days.”

“A-ah, I have always been… a bit slow.”

“It won’t be that long,” Rhys said. “There is a Waypoint that we can take that is public to all.”

“Waypoint. Hm. And what does that look like, exactly?” Step asked.

“Public Waypoints are metallic tiles that we place in the ground,” Rhys explained, as if reading from the technology’s documentation. “They are imbued with the same essence that gives Warp and Pure Seeds their power, but they are channeled and controlled to go to a specific location. Waypoints scattered around here are used to go directly to Kilo Village. Residential Waypoints for outskirts and small settlements go to the central Waypoint, while Waypoints intended for Dungeon use are lined up near the southern side of town, because typically the Hearts use them.”

“Hm, I see,” Step said. “It seemed fairly complicated. How was such a thing invented?”

“Nevren invented them, actually,” Elder said, “with the combination of Anam’s work a long time ago. You may be surprised to learn this, but many of these items simply didn’t exist. It wasn’t until Anam learned how to enchant and ‘bless,’ as it’s called, certain things that the Dungeon items we’re so familiar with became commonplace.”

“Ah, the _blessings_ that Star mentioned,” Step said. “How clever. Where does the power come from?”

“Hey, yeah, where _does_ it come from?” Willow said. “They’ve always been around, but why? Is it just Anam?”

Rhys chuckled. “It seems to be an aftereffect of the way Mysticism works. A small bit of Mystic energy from Star and Bar—Arceus is what powers such items within Dungeons. Anam blesses the Dungeon, and that sparks an endless, steady supply of Mystic energy to generate those items within.” He rubbed the bridge of his muzzle thoughtfully. “The world was a lot more difficult without those things—without a blessed Dungeon.”

“Would other Mystics be able to bless a Dungeon?” Step asked.

“Yes, though Anam seems to be best at it,” Rhys said.

“I see…”

They continued on their walk. The silence was a welcome change; he was particularly surprised that even Willow was being quiet. Perhaps she was just enjoying the ride while nestled within Enet’s ample fur. Rhys glanced to his right. Demitri and Mispy were being remarkably quiet, and he sensed a slightly turbulent flare coming from the two. Demitri was fiddling with Mispy’s petals a lot more often, and Mispy’s vines stumbled over stray rocks and boulders. “Demitri,” Rhys said, “Mispy. Are you feeling okay?”

“H-huh?” they both asked.

“You have been remarkably quiet.” Rhys eyed them. He could sense it in their anxious auras. It was the same pattern that came up when they had encountered their doubles in Trina’s domain. Those doubtful feelings about their artificial nature had been repressed so long, but Trina opened that wound up, and it was bleeding into the forefront of their minds. Just like Owen and Gahi—even the simple outlooks that the artificial Meganium and Haxorus shared were not immune to an existential crisis.

Rhys sighed. It was as good now, during this walk, than any other time. “You aren’t any less a creature than us, you two.”

“Huh?” Willow asked. “Well, of course they aren’t lesser! I mean, I guess they’re a _little_ lesser since we’re Mystic, but—”

“The bug will be silent,” Step growled. “Can’t you see they are hurting?”

“O-oh.” She glowed pink and shrank in size, hopping off of Enet. The Joltik sprouted delicate wings and went to Mispy; the wings vanished in a mist when she landed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d…”

“It’s okay,” Mispy said, looking back. She understood the sentiment, even if Willow was an idiot. But that didn’t wash away her doubts. This must have been how Gahi felt.

Trina’s words echoed in their minds, yet all it did was give them doubt. They had to be proud of what they were. But how could they, when there were others _exactly_ like them wandering around? Ax and Ani, total replicas of themselves, down to their _voice_. And what’s to say there weren’t others just like those two? An entire _squad_ of Demitris, Mispys, Owens, and Gahis. No, an _army_. Just like all the other mutants. Were they replaceable?

“Rhys,” Demitri said hesitantly. His voice was just a bit higher than usual. Strained, like his throat was constricting. “Are we… prototypes?”

“What’s a prototype?” Willow asked.

“A prototype,” ADAM spoke up, “is the first, preliminary model, or perhaps a proof-of-concept, from which other further items or inventions can be designed off of.”

“Proof-of-concept,” Demitri slowly repeated. “We were just tests?”

Rhys glared at ADAM. The Porygon-Z rotated his head nervously.

“What that means,” Rhys said, “is that you are the first Synthetic Pokémon to be born.”

“We weren’t born, though,” Demitri said. “We were—”

“You were _born_ , one way or the other,” Rhys said firmly.

“J-just because you repeat yourself doesn’t mean you’re right!” Demitri’s voice cracked. Mispy slowed her walk, and the others followed suit.

Rhys’ face felt hot, and his heart raced as if he was readying for battle. But this wasn’t a fight he wanted to participate in. It was simply one he had been dreading for a long time. What a familiar feeling, Rhys thought bitterly.

“We don’t have parents!” Demitri said. “We didn’t hatch! I remember seeing those—those cylinders that we came out of! _Those_ were our eggs! Made from _glass_!”

Rhys winced. He didn’t think they’d remember that far back. Mispy’s walking faltered, but her vines continued. Willow hid near Demitri’s tail, hoping to avoid the confrontation.

Nobody said anything. Nobody knew _what_ to say. Even Demitri and Mispy didn’t know the full story; their memories were still slowly returning, starting from the first lives they ever lived. What happened after was a blurry mess of repeat after repeat through the ages. But those first memories were vivid. They remembered the lab. They remembered the tests. And they remembered Rhys, Nevren, and the others. They were a family… but they, the “Alloy,” were meant to be a weapon.

“The name of our team,” Demitri suddenly said. “When we joined the Thousand Heart Association, we were trying to come up with a team name. And Nevren came up with… _Team Alloy_ … because we worked so well together. Like a metal, made from other metals, becoming something stronger. Was that just some sick joke?” Demitri said. “Team Alloy…” Demitri’s claws pressed to the point where they pierced his palms.

“It’s—it’s nothing like that,” Elder said weakly. But Demitri and Mispy said nothing in response.

And then, more silence. Their walk was even slower. At this point, Elder didn’t have to strain himself to keep up.

ADAM finally spoke up. “I am artificial as well. The files pertaining to my origins are corrupted, but I was not born by normal means. I, too, was designed. I have wondered for a long time whether I truly think, whether I truly exist as a being with an aura.”

“You certainly do, Adam,” Rhys said quietly.

“Yes. I do. And I trust Star when she tells me the same, even if she refuses to tell me where I truly came from. Perhaps it is another divine decree. It is… frustrating. My processors overheat at the mere subtask of analyzing those circumstances.”

“W-well, yeah, but” Demitri said, “Porygon-Z are just like any other Pokémon. Even you have ancestry, right?”

“I do not know,” ADAM said. “My aura is strange, even to other Porygon species. But regardless, my species is ultimately an artifact of the lost human world. I cannot fully relate to your circumstances. But I can at least inform you that so long as you think, and so long as you feel, it is only fair that we agree that you exist. Therefore, you must be treated like any other creature. It is… only normal to do so.”

The wind blew. Tall grass bowed to the group in gentle waves; stray petals and leaves of the waning summer, and the first sign of autumn, blew past them. A single petal of a nearby flower, pure white, got caught on Valle’s unmoving face. Rhys helped to pick it off.

“I’m very sorry that you two are troubled by your origins,” Elder said. “But, if it is any help, even those who were born based off of your early designs are different from you. They have their own personalities, and experiences, and _souls_ that are distinct.”

“But,” Mispy said, “we’re… replaceable. If… if we weren’t good, you could make more.” She scanned the field aimlessly. “Easily.”

“You already made more,” Demitri said. “When we broke, you guys must’ve fixed our designs. And tried again. That’s what happened, isn’t it? Rhys? After we went crazy, and Star split us apart? You kept us away from all the training. We didn’t go through tests anymore. Because we were a failed experiment. Nevren and you—you were going to design better versions of us.”

“That isn’t—that’s not how I thought of it,” Rhys said. “I… I was focused on helping your auras. The meditation replaced your testing—not that you could remember any of that. When you were split apart, you forgot nearly everything about yourselves. You were kids again. I tried to take you on a few excursions. Sealed away, you were safe.”

“And during one of those, that’s when Owen killed Klent,” Demitri said. “Trying to gather the Orbs. Still using us for your stupid Hunter mission—trying to train us to handle our evolved forms all over again…. Y-you were still using us as weapons!”

“It—it wasn’t like that at all!” Rhys said. “Owen lost control. There was already so much bloodshed, even before Klent, before we got you involved. Don’t—don’t you remember the war, Demitri?”

“The… the war?” Demitri asked.

“No. Don’t remember,” Rhys said. “Don’t.”

Demitri and Mispy exchanged glances, but they had no recollection. It must have been during a time when their lives were on repeat. They still had to sort through those.

Rhys shook his head. “I never wanted to hurt Klent. I was trying to negotiate, and… and things went awry. After that happened, I had to revert you all so you’d forget, and… and I had a change of heart, then. I spirited you all away to my next assignment, Amia, and—that was it.”

“And that’s how it all went.” Demitri said. “You trained us there, quietly. Until we got unstable again. And then, I bet you had to leave Owen behind, so we’d never be at risk of fusing into the Alloy. Right? But… I don’t get it. If you just _left_ the Hunters, couldn’t Rim, or D—or Eon, couldn’t they have just…?”

The ex-Hunter paused. “She could have,” Rhys said. “Perhaps. But, to be honest, I am not sure why she did not try to attack. Didn’t pursue us at all. I’m not even sure why she attempted to take the Orb recently, rather than all that time she had before. All that _time_. It bothers me every day.”

“Yeah,” Demitri said slowly.

Despite everything that was happening, and despite their memories coming back in full, it still felt like there was a lot they didn’t know. Every piece of the puzzle that was their past was there, but it was all scattered and scrambled.

The brief, gentle silence was undercut only by the heavy steps made by their Icy companion.

“Did you use us in that war, too?” Demitri asked.

“No,” Rhys replied immediately. Despite the quickness, he showed no signs of lying.

“Tell the truth,” Mispy said. “I’ll… I’ll kill you if you don’t.”

“It’s the truth,” Rhys said. “You were in no condition to fight in something of that scale. I promise you, that was one fight you were kept far away from. Eon would have none of it.”

“So, you’re saying if we asked Eon, he’d say the same thing?” Demitri asked.

“He would,” Rhys said. While he felt a pang in his heart that they didn’t trust his word, he had no grounds to expect that from them. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“You two are disturbed by your many copies,” Valle said, “but you are also the only Demitri and Mispy that I know. Just as there are many Shiftry in the world, or many Joltik, or even other Haxorus and Meganium. Just because you are of the same species does not mean you are identical. We have living examples among us. Two Lucario, Rhys and Manny. The same species, yet dissimilar. Is that not the same for you two?”

Enet finally spoke up, catching on to the conversation. “You’re good!” she declared.

“W-well,” Demitri said, “it’s one thing to be the same species, but they’re… _us_.”

“From what I gather, they behaved differently,” Valle said. “None of us will confuse you for another of your design. That would be quite rude.”

“Y-yeah,” Demitri said. “O-okay.”

Rhys sighed. This was not something that they were going to be able to resolve in one walk. Perhaps not even one moon would be enough to help them cope with their circumstances. But it seemed like, at the very least, Demitri and Mispy understood that _they_ in the group would accept them.

Demitri returned to fiddling with Mispy’s petals. After a while, he leaned forward and rested against the back of her neck, closing his eyes. He was careful to keep his axes from cutting her accidentally.

The Haxorus opened his eyes. “Hey, uh, I kinda just thought of something. Don’t we kinda… stand out?” He sat up.

Rhys stopped walking. Up until just then, the thought had eluded him. Based on the reaction of everyone else, it hadn’t occurred to them, either.

He was so used to being around the abnormal that it had become commonplace. Step was a walking ice sculpture. Mispy was a complete behemoth. Valle was a floating statue.

How _would_ they enter town like this?


	53. All's Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some personal matters, Rhys' group returns to Kilo Village to speak with Nevren, Anam, and James for a health and wellness check.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Hot Spot Road was rarely traveled, bystanders would’ve reported them to the Association as mutants roaming the world to be contained—or neutralized. Rhys gulped. That wouldn’t do well for Mispy’s psyche in particular.

“Th-that’s right,” Rhys said. “Well. I suppose if that’s the case, we should, hmm… If only Nevren was with us. He’d be able to seal those memories like when Owen ran off in his Grassy form.”

“I can revert to my normal form, if you wish,” Step said. “I do not want to cause any trouble if it is not necessary.” The icy Aggron breathed out a slow, frosty breath that permeated the air around them.

Mispy’s vines writhed from the cold. She shivered and wrapped around Demitri even tighter, squeezing the air out of him—even though he, too, was cold-blooded. She wouldn’t mind fusing with Owen again—at least he had the natural warmth of a Fire Type.

“Mispy… you’re… choking me…!” The Haxorus’ increasingly constricted voice said.

“S-sorry.” The mutant Meganium released Demitri and he slumped against her back.

Step’s body lost its transparency and became its normal, gray, steely color. She took one step and stumbled forward, slamming directly into the ground with a loud grunt. “Urngh, how—inconvenient!” she shouted, pushing herself off the ground. Rhys rushed to help on one side, and Mispy brought a few vines back to stabilize the other.

“A-are you okay?” Mispy asked.

“I am much heavier in this form,” Step mumbled.

“Y-you don’t… say…!” Rhys huffed.

He pushed Step onto her feet, where she stabilized herself with her tail and took another step. She wobbled and nearly fell forward again, but a quick jerk of her arms kept her in place.

“Okay. How about you, Adam?” Demitri asked.

“I am already the Normal Type,” said the Porygon-Z. “I do not have an alternative form.”

“I mean, yeah, but Zena’s the Water Type and she has a Water form,” Demitri said. “Don’t you have some sort of special power?”

“I do.”

“Oh. So…?”

“It is not visible.”

“Oh. Okay.” Demitri and Mispy exchanged a glance, but then shrugged—for Mispy, this manifested as a bunch of her front-facing vines moving upward, parting ways to reveal even more vines beneath.

“Hmm,” Rhys eyed Demitri and Mispy. Demitri would pass as normal—he was a bit muscular, but as long as he didn’t detach his tusks, he wouldn’t draw much attention. Mispy was the problem. “Perhaps we should have brought the Poké Balls in Brandon’s factory after all…” Rhys mused aloud, but then shook his head.

“Mispy, you will need to be on your best behavior,” Rhys finally said. “All of us are more or less normal in appearance, but your form is heavily modified from the average Meganium. It may frighten the civilians.”

Mispy’s eyes widened. “B-but, I can’t help it!”

“Nor can I,” Step said, her steely gaze fixed on Rhys. “My species is naturally intimidating. Am I also banned from this society?”

“N-no, not at all,” Rhys said quickly. His tail hid between his legs unconsciously. “We just need to… hrm.”

Suddenly, Mispy’s body changed shape—from the monstrous vines, to four normal legs, and even a cute little tail that naturally came with a Meganium’s pale green body. Rhys stammered, “H-how is—what is—?”

“Not scary,” Enet said, waving her paws gently.

“My goodness—that’s brilliant, Enet!” Elder said. He chuckled to himself for five whole seconds, the group stopping to marvel at the technique. “Enet’s illusions, of course! Were you listening this whole time?” he asked.

Enet may have understood a few of Elder’s words. “Listen. Yes! Listen. Mispy… scary body. I make… less scary.”

Mispy tilted her head. “What do you…?”

“You don’t feel your legs, Mispy?” Demitri asked.

“Legs?” Mispy looked down. “Eek—!” As if reacting to a Bug-Type, she flailed her front legs in a panic—Demitri felt something invisible smack against his head, and then another invisible force squeezed his body tight.

“W-wait—vines—! Mispy—vines—!”

“Wh-what?” Mispy said.

“It’s just an illusion!” Elder said. “Mispy! You don’t have legs! Enet is just making it _look_ as if you have them!”

“Fake!” Enet said.

“Fake?” Mispy had been bucking in the air, trying to feel the legs that she didn’t have. Demitri was dizzy from compression. But when she sank back down—and, more importantly, closed her eyes—she felt that, indeed, she just had vines, vines, and more vines. And she sighed, relieved. She didn’t know how she lived with legs for so long—gliding along the ground in this way was _so_ much better.

“Good! I guess now we look normal,” Elder said. “Ahh, except…”

All heads turned to Valle, the last of their group to not revert to something more normal in appearance. “You know, Valle, it might be a bit unsettling to see a Pokémon turned to stone. Your statue is too detailed.”

“Mm,” said Valle. “Well, it is not as if Pokémon turn to stone normally.”

“Ahh,” Elder hesitated. “I suppose not.”

Rhys glanced at Elder, but then looked at Valle again. “Perhaps you should revert to your original form, Valle. Surely you remember it?”

“I will not. I shall be silent in public and will be a statue.”

“You’re heavy,” Enet said. “I’m not carrying you.”

“Oho, you may be a strain, even for me, Valle,” Elder said. “Please, is it too difficult to return to normal?”

“It… it would be,” Valle said. “I have not moved in a very long time.”

“You moved!” Enet said, bounding toward him. “Your arm! Remember? And attacked Gawen! And, um,” Enet counted on her claws.

Willow bounced a few times while atop ADAM’s head. “Your arm fell off at the Frozen Oceanside,” the Joltik said.

“I remember this,” ADAM said. “But that was not a voluntary movement. The ice ruptured his joints, and he had to re-grow the arm from the rocks of Hot Spot Cave.”

“Yes. I hardly count those as movements. Gawen was necessary. But this is not. I am a statue.”

“Ohh, just move!” Enet said, gently patting his back. “Not bad!”

“I… I would rather not.”

“Why not?” Enet asked.

Valle didn’t answer. A stray blade of grass blew into Valle’s stone eye. Enet tilted her head and picked it away, but then asked again.

“Why not?”

“I,” Valle said, but then paused. “I am afraid to.”

“Afraid?”

Valle was quiet again.

“Valle,” Willow said, “it’s okay to _move_.”

“It—it is not!” Valle suddenly said.

The outburst made Willow shrink to half her size, crawling along ADAM’s eyes to hide between the space between his head and body again.

Valle continued. “What I mean is, that is…” He settled down again, and then rotated his entire body around. “This is not something that I wish to speak about.”

“Valle!” Enet said impatiently. “Be… normal!”

Rhys and Elder exchanged uneasy glances. They looked at the statue again.

“Valle,” Rhys said, “have you truly become so used to being a statue, that the idea of returning to normal frightens you?”

“Hrmm,” Elder said. “I imagine a lot of our Guardians have warped their minds in some small way in their solitude. Even with spirits to entertain them, the body craves interaction. It doesn’t help that spirits tend to behave like their hosts, if enough time passes within their realm. Valle must have been dormant for so long that the very _idea_ of moving is frightening to him. As if his world would shatter. Is that right, Valle?”

“I… am… I am stillness,” Valle said. “I cannot move. For I am the Guardian of…”

“But _why_ , Valle, when so many Rock Pokémon are capable of movement?” Rhys said carefully, yet firmly. “There is nothing to fear with this warped mentality. You can move, Valle. You can.”

 “You have already moved before,” Elder said. “You can move again. You will be fine.”

“It… it is too much.”

“Just arm. Come on!” Enet encouraged. “Again! Huh?”

Valle rumbled angrily. “Insolent feral…”

The Zoroark’s fur puffed to twice its size. “What’d you say?!” Enet said, sparking with electricity.

“N-now, now, let’s calm down for a moment!” Rhys said as ADAM buzzed with anxiety.

“There is no need for infighting,” Elder said. “We have enough problems as it is, yes?”

Enet hissed at Valle and flicked her claws toward him. The statue vanished in an instant.

“E-Enet!?” Demitri said.

Enet huffed and turned around. “No.”

“Enet! Where’d he—oh.” Demitri shook his head. “You just… made him invisible.”

“Don’t want to see,” Enet said.

“W-well… that’s as good as anything, I suppose,” Rhys said. They could discuss Valle’s phobia of movement later. With that final anomaly out of the way, they could walk into the village without making a scene with their mere presence. They saw the Waypoint—a small, metallic tile with a Heart insignia embedded into the ground near the end of the path. Rhys demonstrated first, stepping onto it. He vanished in a flash of light. This was followed by the others.

It was nice to see a bit of normalcy in town. Pokémon meandered through the streets in search of an early dinner. Hearts who had finished their missions, easy and hard alike, were tuckered out and ready for a nap. The swing shift of the Association was out in search of breakfast before their evening mission.

A few starstruck Pokémon spotted Rhys and waved enthusiastically, and Rhys remembered that he was an Elite Heart. He waved back, and Elder looked back at him, amused.

“I see you still have quite a reputation with the youth,” he said. “I’m positive I saw hearts in their eyes.”

“Y-yes, well… I suppose I do,” Rhys said, blushing. His tail brushed against the Torkoal’s shell. “Nothing will replace you, Elder.”

“Oho, I’m hardly worried, Rhys. Let them admire.”

Step rumbled nervously at the sight of so many Pokémon. “This is a dense population,” she said. “How do you all eat? I cannot imagine it is very easy.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be, normally,” Rhys said. “But we have developed small farmlands in the outskirts of town, beyond the mountain range. Though, I suppose as the farmland expands, we may run out of habitats to fill before we encroach upon the nearby Dungeons.”

“Mm. That is a concern,” Step mused. “What is that strange structure resembling two ovals?”

“Two ovals?” repeated Rhys.

“Yes. Two ovals merging as one. The large, red structure.”

“A-ahh, the Heart,” Rhys said. “Well. That is the main building of the Thousand Heart Association. That shape? I’m not quite sure why it’s called a Heart, since hearts do not normally appear that way. But it is Anam’s and Nevren’s design, long ago. Anam wished for a heart theme for his association.”

“I see,” Step said. “And Anam. Did he design these things when he was a child?”

Rhys winced. “No, he did not.”

“I see. And he is your leader?”

Rhys wished to sink into the ground. “Yes. He is.”

“I see.”

Step said nothing more.

“Oh!” Enet pointed a claw at the stairs to the Heart, where Nevren was stepping outside. “That’s, umm…!”

“That’s Alakazam Nevren, Step,” said Rhys. “He is also an ex-Hunter, like myself. He spends his days assisting with the daily tasks and management of the Association. Every so often, he also handles the more difficult Missions, particularly the, er, mutant Missions, if they arise.”

“You mean, strays of our kind?” Demitri said uncomfortably, shifting his weight.

“Y-yes, well, it isn’t as if it is safe for the hostile ones to be around,” Rhys said. “I dispatch of them, when needed. I do not know their aural key as I do for you, so—there is not a way for me to… revert them to a calmer state. Instead, Nevren and I have found… safe drop-off locations.”

“Drop-off?” Demitri said. “So… so Rim gets them, or something?”

“That’s the theory,” Rhys murmured. “…It doesn’t feel right to kill them. They were led astray. We can’t merely….” He thought about Manny and his tendency to kill his mutant opponents. They just became part of his spirit realm. He shuddered.

“But, they’d just try to kill us again,” Mispy said, “Or they’d hurt others.”

“If they’re taken care of by Rim and Eon, they should be under control,” Rhys said uneasily. “That’s—simply how it is.”

“Ahh, are you talking about how we handle the Synthetics?” Nevren asked on his approach; there weren’t any others around to hear the conversation other than their group. “There is no need to worry, Demitri. These strays seem to happen from time to time, and killing them won’t stifle the flow. I’m not very pleased with the fact that they are strays to begin with.”

“Y-yeah, no kidding!” Demitri said. “Those things are scary!”

Mispy nodded. “W-well,” she said, “we’re scary, so….”

“Where is the Goodra?” Step asked.

“Ahh, Anam? He is still inside his office, if you would like to see him. It is a pleasure to meet you. And you are… which Guardian?”

“I am Aggron Step—of Ice.”

“Very good to meet you, Aggron Step,” Nevren said. “Now then! Would you like to meet our grand leader of the new world?” He chuckled.

Rhys winced. “That’s not very funny, Nevren.”

“Ohh, just a bit of nostalgia, Rhys,” Nevren said dismissively.

“Let’s see Anam!” Demitri said. Nevren nodded and stepped aside to let them all in.

The bulky Aggron carefully walked up the stairs, though this proved to be extremely difficult for her. She didn’t trust the flooring, and wobbled once she was nearly to the top. “This is not an ideal place for me,” she said.

The group steered clear of her path. The last thing they wanted was for their story to end because a half-ton of living rock and metal fell on them. Step was already bigger than the average Aggron; imagining that on top of their bodies briefly reminded Rhys of when Emily subdued him. Sometimes, Rhys wished he could wipe his own memories the way he could for his students.

After an agonizing ascent, Step entered the Heart and stared at the colorful walls suspiciously. “How did you make such a strange color for the walls? What special rock is so vibrant?”

“It’s not rocks, Step,” Demitri said. “It’s paint! I think they crush up special berries or something and mix it with, um, water, and stuff.”

“Paint,” repeated the Aggron. “I do not know what that is.”

“It’s like a coating that you put on rocks and buildings so they can look like something else. See the lines? You can’t get lines like those on rocks!”

“Hm.” Step eyed the pinks, reds, and purples of the Heart’s interior. She observed the dark purple on the ground, and how one of these paths led to a room near the back of the structure. A Decidueye stepped out of this room and locked onto their group. “He appears to be important,” she observed.

“Yes,” Rhys said. “That is Decidueye James.”

“He’s boring!” Willow amended. “But he’s Anam’s assistant! And Anam is super nice!”

“Hm.” Step walked to James and held out her hand. “Decidueye James. I am glad to meet someone of sanity. My name is Aggron Step, of Ice.”

“Ah—so you were able to be rescued after all? That’s wonderful.” James then addressed the others. “We apologize for being so silent toward you the past few days. There was an extraordinary backlog of paperwork to sort through, and it took my, Anam’s, and Nevren’s combined efforts to sort through it all. We shouldn’t leave the Association alone like that for long again.”

“I don’t blame you,” Rhys said with a grin. “Well, we just wanted to make certain that everything was all right. May we see Anam, or is he busy?”

“We just finished. He’s just taking some time to relax in the pool.” James turned around. “Come.” He eyed Mispy curiously. “…Why does she look normal?”

Enet waved.

“Ah.” James turned and led the way inside.

There, the Goodra was sitting in the middle of the pool in the back of his office with his eyes closed, a dumb smile on his face. The water was thick with slime—it had been too long since his last good, warm soak.

Step crossed her arms skeptically. “ _This_ is your leader?”

Anam’s right feeler throbbed and he opened his left eye. “Oh! Hi!” he said, standing. His body was swollen from soaking in the water for so long. “Hi! Hi! Um—who are you? I’m Goodra Anam! Ghost Guardian!”

“I am Aggron Step—Ice Guardian. It is,” Step searched for the word, “interesting to meet you.”

“It’s interesting to meet you, too!” Anam said, not skipping a beat. He climbed out of the pool; slimy water dripped on the stone ground, darkening the floor. He held out a gooey hand, and for just a second, Step looked trapped.

She hesitantly brought her hand forward and gripped Anam’s delicately, worried that her metal body would crush the amorphous, tiny thing if she pressed any harder. His hand had such an incredible amount of give that she could feel her own claws touching through the palm. She let go when she realized this, and Anam tilted his head.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I—I think I stabbed your hand,” Step said quickly.

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just jiggly.” He held his hand up, revealing no injury.

“A-aren’t Goodra still solid creatures? I’ve met your kind before, and they weren’t…”

“I’m a little weird because of the Guardian stuff,” Anam said. “It’s fun being like this!”

“Fun. Yes. Well.” Step shook her head. “I cannot relate, but I will take your word for it, Goodra. I hope my contribution to this group will be useful.”

“I bet it will!” Anam nodded. “Oh! Let’s go home! I finished everything I had to do here for today. Where’s everyone else?”

Valle spoke up. “The others left for—”

James hooted and beat his wings in surprise—Valle had been standing right next to him, invisible due to Enet’s illusion. A few loose green and brown feathers scattered on the ground. “V-Valle! Inform me of your presence, the next time, yes?!”

“The others left,” Valle said, “for Emily, due to an extended mission. An outlaw, Aerodactyl Jerry, attempted to ambush Owen’s team in Dark Mist Swamp. However, his impure heart caused Ghrelle, the Guardian of the Poison Orb, to melt his body.”

“Melt,” James repeated. “Are you certain?”

“I witnessed it myself,” Valle said.

“The Aerodactyl,” Step said, “was nothing more than a head attached to a Pecha Scarf when we first saw him.”

“Goodness,” James said. “How horrifying.”

“But it’s fine,” Enet said.

“Yes,” Step agreed. “Owen fused with this one.” she motioned to Mispy. “And that enhanced her powers, between her healing talent and his Mystic enhancement.”

Mispy nodded. “But,” she said, “he started to melt. Again.”

“He would likely dissolve instantly if he took away that scarf, so going to Emily would be the only way to heal him completely,” Rhys said. “At least, that is the hope.”

Anam nodded. “Well, if we’re gonna just wait for them,” he said, “let’s go home! I wanna try one of those hot springs in the cave!”

“Oho, hot springs?” Elder asked. “Goodness, why did you not tell me about this, Rhys? I would go there instantly. I’m still feeling a tad chilly from Steps, er, method of storage.”

Step’s metallic face barely twitched to a smirk. “Good.”

Anam stomped outside. “Let’s go! I’m sick of paperwork!”

“I must agree,” James said.

Rhys sighed, relieved. He was glad that their absence was only because of paperwork. He had the most sinking feeling that something had been wrong due to their extended silence—but, from what Rhys could tell, it was just because of some extra paperwork.

“Oh!” Anam suddenly said. “Wait! We forgot something!”

“We did?” Nevren asked.

“Yeah!” Anam said. “I forgot to do my blessings!”

“Ahhhh.” Nevren clicked his claws together. “My goodness. I cannot believe I’ve forgotten. Very well.”

“Yeah! You guys should all go back,” Anam said. “I’ll catch up! This won’t take too long.”

“Blessings?” Step repeated. “Ah. The same as the enchanted scarves and other items, yes?”

Anam nodded. “We’re running low on Reviver Seeds again,” he said. “You can’t get very many from Dungeons naturally, so I boost the supply!”

“How?” Step asked.

“Blessings are my specialty! Mhm! I learned from Mom a long time ago. She was a really important Goodra.”

“I see. How interesting,” Step said. “What are Reviver Seeds?”

“They’re imbued with healing energy that reacts to weakened auras,” Anam said. “They’re very important. But they’re hard to make. Even with all my power, I can only generate a few to distribute to the other Hearts. But they’re life savers. Literally!”

“I see,” she said again, nodding. “Very well. That is very noble of you, Anam.”

“Yes. We will all go for now,” Nevren said. “Come! Let’s not waste any further time here, yes?”

“Well, aren’t you in a rush,” Rhys commented. “Are you finally tired of paperwork, Nevren? I thought I’d never see the day.”

“I suppose even I can get stir crazy. Come! Let’s go. To Hot Spot Cave!”

Rhys nodded, turning for the exit. But then, he sensed it. A presence. So familiar, and yet one that should _not_ be felt here. An Espurr. It was to his left. He quickly turned his head. In the corner of his eye, he saw something purple. But when he looked directly, it was gone. So was Rim’s aura.

Rhys looked at Mispy. She was heading down the stairs, oblivious. Perhaps her mind was still occupied. All the others weren’t nearly in tune with the aura to sense anything. But an icy pit formed in Rhys’ stomach nonetheless. Why would she appear here so brazenly? Her aura felt calm. And then, there had been a spark of panic. And then she vanished. Why would she panic, if she knew that Anam would be there? Surely, he would be trouble for her. Elder was halfway to the stairs when he looked back, giving Rhys a puzzled expression.

Rhys didn’t even realize it, but he was now the only one still near Anam’s office.

“Rhys?” Anam asked, looking back. “Are you okay? Oh, oh! I know! You want to watch me do a blessing, right?”

“Rhys? Now, why would you want to do that?” Nevren asked. “Come! Let Anam perform his blessings in peace. We can wait for him outside, if we must.”

“Actually,” Rhys said, “I think it would be a good idea for me to see this. I’m curious if there is a way to replicate it.” Rhys eyed Nevren slowly. The icy pit in his stomach faded into something denser.

“Rhys,” Nevren said, “are you feeling well? It isn’t as if this blessing would be anything new.”

“I don’t think we should leave Anam alone, Nevren,” Rhys said.

“Huh? What?” Anam asked, turning toward Rhys. “What’s wrong? Everything’s fine, Rhys! I’ve done these blessings so many times!”

Rhys suddenly vanished from view. Anam jumped in surprise and swiveled his head, flinging slime from the ends of his feelers.

“Eep—!”

Rhys was right in front of Rim, who had appeared a split-second earlier. Extremespeed was truly invaluable, but now, Rhys used an even stronger weapon against Rim—a stare. “Why are you here?” Rhys said.

Rim couldn’t make eye contact. She gazed intensely at the ground with her wide, purple eyes.

“This is the second time. As if you were waiting. Why?”

Rim trembled.

“Rim,” Nevren said lowly. “Do not think you can catch us off guard.”

After a short pause, Rim spun around and disappeared again.

Anam fiddled with his slimy fingers. “That was scary…” he said.

“Hmm,” Nevren said. “It’s a good thing you remained behind, Rhys.”

Elder sighed. “What would Rim have tried to do? Attack you?”

“I suppose she was sent by Eon,” Nevren said, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, he is not very happy with our arrangement with Anam. He _is_ a bit of a thorn in Eon’s side, after all.”

“Ahh,” Elder nodded. “That’s very true. Hmm—we should be careful about her appearance, Rhys. She isn’t good against multiple, powerful fighters like you all.”

“Hrm. I still do not know her true strength,” Rhys hummed. “Ever since she acquired the Psychic Orb, that is.”

“I’m not sure, either,” Elder said. “But she and Eon trained every day.”

Rhys huffed. “Wonderful,” he said, but then gave Nevren a small jab to the side. “Nothing we can’t handle, I suppose,” he said. “With how many Orbs we have on our side, including Trina incoming—with some luck—I think we’re almost ready to take Eon directly.”

Anam excused himself into the room next to his office; it was dark inside, so it was difficult to see its contents. Rhys had been there before—it was lined with unenchanted seeds, scarves, and other useful Dungeon equipment.

Nevren nodded. “After the Hunters, it will just be the Trinity.”

Rhys winced. “One problem at a time.”

Nevren sighed. “I suppose that much is true. One at a time. After five hundred years, Rhys. Can you believe it?”

Rhys laughed. “I can’t!” he said.

One of Nevren’s many devices suddenly made a beeping noise. He looked down. “Ah, a Hecto is nearby,” he remarked. “Perhaps this one is touring the town?”

“You have a tracker for Hecto?” Rhys asked curiously.

“Ah, yes, it was something I’ve decided to carry with me. Very useful device. I have it tuned to many of our friends, in fact. I used Hecto for testing, as usual.” Nevren pulled out the device from the satchel on his hip—another square tablet with a light-based interface in the front. “Nifty, isn’t it? If Hecto happens to be nearby, I’ll know, and I can give him updates on anything worrisome.”

“Ahh, that _is_ useful.”

“Well, it used to be,” Nevren said. “Then I invented the communicators. Using Hecto as a messenger has become less useful. At least he can behave as worldwide surveillance—for the areas he visits, at least. Since we’re in Kilo most of the time, it’s rare for him to visit. Perhaps he’s craving one of Ludicolo Café’s smoothies again.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Rhys chuckled. “Ah, Nevren, perhaps we should stop by there and get something.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Elder piped up. “I personally enjoy their Cheri smoothies, oho…”

A bright glow emanated from the room next to Anam’s office. They turned their heads, seeing the Goodra emerge, puffing as if he’d sprinted around the whole village crater.

“Phew,” he said. “All done!”

“Goodness, that was fast,” Elder said.

“Then let’s return home,” Rhys said. He couldn’t help it—his tail wagged on the way down the stairs. Everything was finally falling into place. They had more than half of the Orbs. He was finally with Elder again, in person. Owen and the rest of the Alloy were stable and sane.

All was well.

Walking beside Nevren, the Goodra stumbled in his steps. The Alakazam glanced at Anam. Gooey tears streamed down his otherwise normal, smiling face. Nevren’s eyes glowed for just one second. The tears ceased.


	54. Flames in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen's group investigates the Chasm of the Void, and then fly to Emily's island to help Jerry recover from his melting problem. Neither things go as expected.

Going from Hot Spot Cave to the southern corner of the world took quite a while. The sun was not far from kissing the horizon. It wouldn’t be long until they were above the Chasm of the Void; even in the incoming twilight, they expected to see the blinding darkness that was the crater.

“So, from there,” Star said, balanced atop Milotic Zena’s back, “half of us will pay a visit to Nate, and the other half will keep to finding Emily with Jerry. How’re you holding up, Aero?”

“I’m just fine,” Jerry said, twisting his neck slightly at the tightness of his Stable Scarf. “I’m a little nervous about flying with this thing around my neck. It’s messing with my dynamics.”

“You can land on my back, if you want,” Owen offered.

“I’ll pass,” Jerry growled. “I’m afraid that you’ll twist and throw me right into the water once we go over the ocean.”

“Wh-what kind of person d’you think I am?!” Owen’s flame shrank at the accusation. In truth, Owen was simply trying to make up for his insolence prior to their fight. What more did he need to do? Owen struggled to find the words to form a proper apology.

“If you must,” Zena offered, “you may ride on my back, Jerry. Perhaps you can use my body as a perch? I’m sure I feel a lot like a tree branch if you don’t think about it.”

“Listen, I’m still trying to get used to the fact that you’re flying like the Legendary Rayquaza. I’m not about to also use you as some kind of stand. I’ll… I’ll just fly on my own. I’ll be fine.”

“Hm,” Zena nodded. “Very well.”

A quiet, serene noise filled the air. It was a gentle whistle in an enchanting, organic tune. Almost a song. It pierced through the wind.

“Um, do you hear that?” Amia asked.

“Hear what?” Owen asked. “Oh, Gahi?”

“Ngg—” Gahi beat his wings rapidly, and the whistling stopped.

“Gahi! I didn’t know you could sing!” Amia said. “By the Stars, that was beautiful!”

Star’s ear twitched.

“I ain’t singing!” Gahi said.

“He isn’t,” Owen said. “Those are his wings! If the wind blows at them the right way, they make a really nice hum in the air. I remember Nevren once told me that it’s even louder in sandstorms.”

“It ain’t pretty!” Gahi said. “Nevern told _me_ that Flygon use that singing to lure prey fer a kill. It’s _deadly_. I’m _deadly_.”

“I thought it sounded quite nice,” Zena said. “I envy that. Despite my species, my singing voice is not quite up to your wings, Gahi.”

“Well, at least your normal voice is nice, right?” Owen asked.

“I—I’m sorry?” Zena asked.

“Feh!” Gahi irritably drifted away from them, flying next to Manny instead.

 “Heh.” Manny twirled through the air, wagging his tail. “I’ve been cooped up in that mountain and then those caves fer way too long! I fergot how great it was ter fly!”

“Lucario shouldn’t fly,” Zena said. “I much prefer you on the ground. Perhaps with your face in the dirt?”

“Hey, don’t go associating me with Rhys,” Manny said. “I know yer history. I ain’t got any bad past with yeh. Don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Yes, you’re less dangerous,” Zena said. “I heard that you lost to him quite soundly.”

“ _Soundly?”_ Manny said. “Who said that? Who said I did it all easy-like?”

“I believe it was Amia,” Zena said.

Manny’s eyes flashed with genuine betrayal.

“So!” Amia said, drifting away from Manny. “Jerry, um.” She fiddled with her hands. “About earlier. The… the Fire Clan.”

“What of it?” Jerry said.

“I, um, I’m sorry that your circumstances turned out that way. I didn’t think something like that would…”

“It’s that Goodra that’s the problem,” Jerry said. Amia didn’t reply. Jerry, perhaps from thoughts that had been bubbling for a while during the flight, continued. “What gives him the right to judge my character at a glance? What gives that stupid _Ghrelle_ the right to judge me?! Neither of them have the right, if you ask _me_! I was at the top of those exams! I would’ve passed with _flying_ colors! But then he steps in and denies me the chance. How is that fair?”

“I—I don’t know, Jerry. Maybe we can ask him,” Owen said. “After you’re all healed up, we can see why Anam—”

“I know why! It’s because there was something in my _character_ that didn’t fit with the Hearts’ policy. I get it,” Jerry said.

“Then… why are you mad?” Owen said. “If you didn’t have it in you—”

“Well, maybe I could’ve gotten better,” Jerry said.

“Y-yeah, maybe,” Owen said. “But if Anam had to choose between someone who already had good character, versus someone who, I mean…” Owen didn’t want to say it, but at this point, he was just dancing around the subject. “You became an outlaw after you were denied a position as a Heart. Don’t you think that kind of reaction isn’t—”

Owen winced at Jerry’s glare.

“I’m done talking about this,” Jerry said. “You better go with the group that sees that stupid Dark Guardian, got it? Because I don’t want to see your scaly hide for any longer than I have to, you pampered little—”

“Shut up for a second,” Star said, gently holding a paw on Jerry’s muzzle. “What’s going on down there?”

Jerry was about to protest, but he grunted instead and looked down. “What?” he asked. “It’s just a crater, nothing wrong with—wait a minute…”

“Yeah, exactly,” Star said.

The Chasm of the Void was a shallow crater in the middle of a field of tan rocks and red dirt—no deeper than Kilo Village’s. Surrounding this field of lifeless dust was the thin trees of the southern forest. But that crater wasn’t supposed to be that way—and many in the group imagined it would be quite a lot deeper. Yet, it looked like it only went down for a hundred feet. The ground at the bottom was a barren wasteland of even paler dirt and rocks like the terrain that surrounded it. All the way across, it was about a quarter of the size of Kilo Village’s diameter.

“That’s not good,” Owen said. “Isn’t it supposed to be this… black circle that’s like going blind?”

“Yeah. And now it’s gone,” Star said. Her voice trembled. “Nate…!”

“Please don’t tell me Eon got him,” Owen said.

“N-no, that can’t be it,” Star said. “I mean, Nate’s shy, but he’d’ve told me, right?! Guys? I’m approachable, right?”

Zena huffed. “I suppose you are friendly, when you aren’t lying through your teeth.”

Owen could tell that one hurt.

Zena’s eyes softened slightly. “I… apologize.”

“N-no, it’s okay. I deserved that. I’m doing better,” Star said in a squeak. She gulped and said, “Change of plans. Let’s all fly down there and investigate. If there’s trouble, I want us to all be there to fight it off, alright?”

They all nodded and descended. Before long, they were at the very center of the crater; Owen was the first to land, sensing no immediate danger or foreign presence. “It feels fine to me,” he reported.

“I don’t know if I should be glad or worried about that,” Star said.

“Oy, Flygon,” Manny said.

“Eh?”

“How about we go off and circle the whole crater, see if we can spot anything weird at all angles, eh? My eyes and yer speed.”

The mutant Flygon made a thoughtful churring sound reminiscent of his Trapinch years. “Yeah, sure. Figure these guys’ll just scan the ground.”

Gahi put his speed to good use, and Manny hopped onto his back. For just an instant, Gahi felt an odd, nostalgic kinship with him—the Lucario that he had been so impressed by as a delinquent adolescent. Now, as a delinquent adult, Manny got to see him in his full glory.

“Oy!” Manny shouted at the others. “We’re gonna do a spin around the crater!”

“Yeah!” Gahi called back. “We’ll let y’guys know if we spot anything!”

And with that, the pair took off.

The rest resumed their search on the ground for any signs of oddities. Star spoke up first. “You don’t think Eon got to him, do you?”

“Didn’t you just say Nate wouldn’t be defeated by Eon so easily?” Zena said.

“I meant, like, with words,” Star said. “Eon’s pretty good with those when he has to be. Charisma, like any good leader.”

“Eon?” Jerry repeated.

“The leader of the Hunters.”

“Uh-huh. And the Hunters?”

“Uh, the people chasing the—look, I’ll explain later, if we even have to explain it,” Star said. “But right now, it doesn’t look like there’s anything here.”

“This dirt,” Zena said, slithering tentatively over it. “It feels… well-traveled. As if there were creatures constantly trotting over it at all times. But I imagine it would be quite lonely down here, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see any footprints,” Owen said.

Jerry kicked at a loose rock. “That’s because whatever used to be here didn’t have normal feet,” he said. “I’ve never seen markings like this before, and I’ve followed lots of tracks. For all I know, this is just more of that weird business you guys deal with. But the way the dirt looks here, it feels like some sort of Ghost Type used to live here.” Jerry huffed. “Or some abomination. What’s the difference?”

With his foot, the Aerodactyl rolled a rock over and tilted his head. Something flat and yellow had been trapped underneath. He leaned down and picked up a strange cloth. The sensation baffled him—it felt smooth, cold, and wet, yet no water or residue was left on his wing’s claws.

“Huh.” He didn’t see any importance to it, but perhaps the material would be useful. Making use of the small bag they had given him for his sparring match with Owen, he slipped it inside. Maybe he could sell it.

Gahi and Manny—who had been specks in the air until seconds ago—descended next to the group, indicated by that same singing from the Flygon’s wings.

“ _Nada_ ,” Manny reported.

“What the heck’s a _nada_?” Jerry said.

“It means nothing,” Star said. “Lost language.”

 “Doesn’t look like anything’s here,” Zena said. “That’s too bad. I hope Nate is okay…”

“Guess so,” Star sighed. “Okay. I guess Nate isn’t here. I don’t see any signs of a struggle, though.” She looked over at Owen. “What do you think? Owen? Hello?”

“Huh? Oh—sorry,” Owen looked back. “I was trying to scan the whole area and I think I got lost.”

Jerry blinked. “This is a big, open crater. How in Mew’s name do you get lost in here?”

Star’s ear twitched.

“It’s—it’s hard to explain, okay?” Owen said. “Sometimes it feels like I’m everywhere at once, and big, open areas make me just bleed my mind all over. I kinda prefer confined spaces.”

“You’re one of the weirdest Chars I’ve ever met,” Jerry said. “Hmph. So, are we done here? Are we good? Let’s go.”

“I guess we are,” Star agreed, nodding uncertainly. “Owen?”

Owen was standing still again, staring into empty space with his mouth agape.

Jerry smacked Owen just below his horns.

“Ng—don’t do that!” Owen said. “I was just thinking!”

“You were thinking for ten seconds. C’mon, let’s get going before you go crazy. Seeing the Chasm all bare like this is giving me the creeps.”

Owen shrank. “O-okay.”

“What,” Star said to Jerry, “you mean it being like staring into the abyss is any less creepy?”

“That was weird, too!” Jerry said. “Tons of crazy rumors about this place. They say that if you fell into the void, demons would claim your soul and turn your body into more darkness.” He shivered. “Some Pokémon once escaped. They said that they felt thousands of hands trying to pull them apart.”

“Th-that wasn’t what it was like when we came,” Owen said.

“You went into the Chasm?” Jerry asked.

“Yeah! We… mis-warped or something, and wound up there.” Owen paused. “I didn’t know Badges could mis-warp.”

“They can’t,” Star said. “I’m still kinda sorting out why that happened in the first place, myself. Nevren usually handles Badge tech, so we should give him a bug report or something.”

“Jerry,” Zena spoke up. “How do you know about the Chasm?”

“I’m from here,” Jerry said. “Ever heard of Pyrock Village? Not that far from here.”

Amia tilted her head back. “Mm… that _does_ sound familiar,” she said. “But I’ve never been there. Perhaps a few generations back?”

“Yeah. Back before the ‘Fire Clan’ split up,” Jerry nodded. “Whatever. Guess it doesn’t matter now. The Chasm is just _gone_ , and I say good riddance. All those scary stories about evil spirits stealing you away at night don’t have much weight to them anymore, now do they?”

“Doubt they had any weight to begin with,” Star shrugged. “Nate’s friendly. Sure, he’s weird, but he’s friendly.”

“Speaking of weird,” Jerry mumbled. Owen was staring into space again. He flicked his tail on Owen’s thigh.

“Guh—! Stop that!”

Star hummed. “I guess he’s getting his powers back gradually. Power before control. You keep that in check, big guy.” She crossed her arms and flicked her tail. “You weren’t like that when you first evolved, so I think you’re getting your powers back in full before you’re getting back the knowledge on how to handle it.”

“I guess so,” Owen said, shutting his eyes tight. That didn’t help. If anything, it made him even more focused on his surroundings.

Jerry grumbled irritably.

They took off. Before long, the now bright, barren chasm was a small speck in the distance, and the thin, pale treetops of the southern forest took over the landscape. Jerry followed behind at a slightly slower pace. The others were quick to notice this, but it was Owen who spoke up first.

“Jerry, are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just fine.”

“How come you’re slowing down? Don’t get too far. If you start melting, I’m gonna need to get that scarf refreshed before we get to Emily.”

“I feel fine. Lay off.”

“O-okay,” Owen said.

“Hey,” Star spoke up. “How about we go on a little detour first?”

“E-excuse me? This is a bit urgent, Star,” Zena said.

“Oh, please, we aren’t in a rush,” Star said. “This is just a bunch of hurry-and-wait. Even once Jerry gets healed by Emily, we need to wait for the Badges to recharge before we can get back home. Jerry?”

“What? What do you want?” Jerry asked.

“Want to visit the Western Chasm Glade?”

Jerry’s flight stiffened into a glide, and he stared ahead, looking at nobody.

“No,” he said.

Star blinked. “You… y’don’t?”

“No. Let’s just see Emily.”

Zena and Owen glanced at one another, and then at Star. She seemed puzzled at the response, but then said, “Aw, well, I’m sure you really want to. I bet she’d—”

“Let’s _go_.” Jerry beat his wings hard, accelerating forward until he was ahead of the entire group. The ocean dominated the landscape, with the forest below transitioning into fields and sand, and finally into nothing but an expanse of water that glistened orange under the setting sun.

Owen was tempted to ask Jerry what that place was, or why Star was offering, and why Jerry refused so curtly. She was just trying to help, wasn’t she? Owen felt someone brush against his side; he glanced to the right.

“Oh—sorry,” Zena said.

“It’s okay,” Owen said. “Hey, are you having trouble flying? I guess it’s pretty weird for a Milotic to be going through the air, huh?”

“Oh, it’s not strange at all, actually,” Zena said. “This feels very much like swimming. I should do this more often. I would be more worried about your mother.”

“Uh?” Owen looked to his left. Amia was flying, yes, but she was squinting at the air, struggling to see through the rush. “Mom?”

“Oh! Yes, dear?”

“Are you okay? Seems like you’re having trouble, uh, seeing.”

“Ohh, it’s just fine, Owen.” Her eyes were watering.

Owen wondered if Pokémon that could naturally fly just had an easier time with harsh winds. Then again, Zena was fine with it, too, but perhaps swimming through water worked in the same way? Owen looked at the others. Manny was flying, and he had no problem with the wind; last he checked, he never saw Rhys fly. No, he did, when they had gone over the ocean the first time—but did that really count as flying? Propelling himself with the sheer force of aura from his paws? It wasn’t like he could keep it up, either; Rhys had been quite strained by the end of it.

Wings sounded like the most appropriate way to fly, like himself and Gahi. None of these Mystic cheaters. Then again, he supposed lots of Pokémon levitated…. But Rhys didn’t. If he wanted to fly, he’d need to sprout an extra set of wings.

Owen briefly imagined Rhys crossed with a Dragonair, little white wings sprouting from his furry back.

He snorted out a small flame from his nostrils and tried to cover it up as a cough from swallowing a gust of air.

“Owen?” Zena asked.

“N-nothing, nothing,” Owen said. “I was just, uh, I was just imagining what it’d be like if, uh, Manny had wings.”

“Wings? Oh, flying,” Zena said. She looked at the Lucario, and then giggled. “Oh, goodness, imagine if you fused with him, Owen.”

“Fused?” Owen said. He imagined himself with Manny’s boisterous personality, and then the mighty wings of a Charizard attached to the thin frame of a Lucario. “That doesn’t sound too bad. For some reason I was imagining the little white wings you see on Dragonair.”

Zena’s eyes bulged and she stifled a laugh of her own. “Now _why_ are you imagining that?” she asked.

“W-well, I—I mean,” Owen flushed. “I was imagining how a Lucario could fly normally. M-maybe they could use a bunch of Aura Spheres and use that as propulsion? Do you think they can shoot them from their feet?”

Manny was too far away to ask without yelling over the wind.

Zena let loose a small giggle. “And how do you imagine _I_ would fly, Owen?”

“Y-you? Umm—well, how does Rayquaza fly? You sorta move like I imagine he would. With… wind power, or something.”

“Wind power,” Zena repeated.

“W-well, what else would it be? Doesn’t he have control over the sky or something? That’s awesome! Hey, Star? Is Rayquaza real?”

“Yeah.”

“W-wow! What, um, what’s he like?”

“He’s cool. A little uptight. Lots of the pantheon is kinda like that. I think they get it from Barky, you know, since he created most of them.”

“Oh? You mean you didn’t make them? I thought you made all life.”

“All _normal_ life,” Star said. “The Embodiments are his thing, for the most part. But most of them aren’t around anymore.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Owen said. “So Rayquaza isn’t around?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I guess that explains why there have never been any sightings,” Owen said, though he couldn’t help but wonder why they wouldn’t be around anymore. “How come they aren’t around?” he asked.

“Eh, stuff happens,” Star said evasively. “Maybe one day Barks will get around to making another.”

“Hmm,” Owen said. He knew Star wasn’t telling the full story, but perhaps it was just a sore spot, or an accident. Did Rayquaza die from flying into a mountain when he wasn’t paying attention? If it was something embarrassing, perhaps Star was just covering for his spirit’s dignity.

Zena sighed. “Speaking of Embodiments, I can’t wait to see Emily again.”

“Urk,” Owen said. “Y-yeah. She seemed nice.”

Zena smiled apologetically. “I know you didn’t get the best first impression, but I’m glad you at least see her as friendly.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, she’s great!” Owen perked up. “She dedicates her life to rescuing Pokémon lost at sea! She’s like the ocean’s Thousand Heart Association! And like Anam, she hugs people. A lot.”

“Hugs,” Zena said with another giggle. “Is that what we’re calling it, now?”

“I just don’t want to think of it another way,” Owen said, briefly remembering when he’d also accidentally been halfway submerged in Anam’s slime. No wonder he reminded Zena of Emily.

Jerry eyed Owen suspiciously. “Hang on,” he said. “What?”

“Uhh—” Owen shook his head. “It’s nothing! Nothing. Remember, Emily’s probably the only way we can get you fixed completely, okay?”

Jerry stared. Owen shrank, veering toward Zena if only to get further away.

“So,” Jerry said, “tell me again what’s going on? Who is this _Emily_ you’re talking about, and how is she able to heal me?”

“She’s a Lugia with very special powers,” Zena said. “Potent healing abilities—it’s slower, but it’s incredibly strong. It was enough to heal Owen and Gahi’s minds when they fused together.”

“I don’t think it was _just_ that,” Star said. “But she did help. It’s our best bet at getting you better, Jerry. After that, we’ll drop you off at the Association, you can finish your dues, and you’ll find a better job than being a criminal. Alright?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some kid.”

Star sighed. This was going to be a long flight.

The sky transitioned to a deep purple in silence.

“Oh, look,” Owen said, pointing. “Zero Isle Spiral.”

“Yep,” Star said.

The twisted archipelago was to their right. In the darkening sky, they could tell the land apart from the water only because the water glistened orange, while the land itself was dark.

“Wh—hey!” Owen pointed at the very center of the four-pronged vortex of small islands. “That’s awesome!”

The center of the spiral glowed dimly.

“That’s where the treasure is,” Star said with an amused lilt. “In other words, Dragon Guardian Aramé.”

“Can’t we just fly right to the center?” Owen asked. “We can skip Zero Isle Spiral entirely! Oh, wait,” Owen hummed. “Dungeon space is spherical, right? So, once we get too close—”

“You’ll land right at the edge, yep,” Star said. “Besides, I wouldn’t go there anyway. Aramé’s all about strength, and Zero Isle Spiral just isn’t a place you want to go. Even Elites struggle with it.”

“Yer making me wanna challenge it,” Manny said.

“Go ahead,” Star shrugged. “I’ll come and collect your corpse later. She’s merciful to mortals, but she told me a long time ago that if a Mystic ever entered the Dungeon, she’d have spirits waiting at the entrance to kill the defeated.”

“She sounds nice,” Zena said.

“Feh. Doesn’t sound so tough. Maybe she’s all talk.”

“Wanna test it out?” Star asked. “C’mon, Manny. Don’t be an Owen.”

“H-hey!”

Star giggled. “Let’s keep going, alright? One problem at a time.”

More flying, and the sound of wind blowing past them slowly faded out of Owen’s mind. The gentle singing of Gahi’s wings, too, faded from Owen’s mind. Becoming nothing but background noise, the ‘silence’ ate away at him. He drifted a bit to Zena, and then dipped beneath her until he was between the Milotic and the Aerodactyl.

“Um, Jerry,” he said.

“What now?” he groaned.

“I’m sorry for belittling you. For the fight.”

Jerry stared at Owen incredulously. “You think I care?”

Owen flinched. “N-no, I mean, yes? I—I just didn’t want to—I’m just sorry that I said you were weak.”

“Who _cares_?” Jerry said. “I fight to survive. Just because you thought I was weak doesn’t mean anything. Actually, you know what? It’s an advantage for me, because that might’ve given me the win in the first place.”

“Y-yes, but isn’t… I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem like a big insult? I’m _really_ sorry.”

Jerry wished his wings weren’t occupied so he could rub his face. He compromised by rolling his eyes. “Look, if this is part of your freak-mutant culture of bloodlust, I don’t care. Your apology was losing. So, fine. Apology accepted.” He grunted. “Now how about you stop belittling me for my past, next?”

Owen winced. “O-oh,” he said.

“Yeah, Mister Entry-Heart. By the way, did you know that they tell you the team name of the group that arrested you? Part of the records. What kind of name is Team Alloy? None of you guys are metallic.”

“Th-that’s a long story,” Owen said, realization washing over him. Alloy. What a sick joke. “It’s meant to signify a team that can combine their skills into a single, stronger force.”

“So, your fusion gimmick,” Jerry said.

“We… didn’t know about that part.”

“Ohh, so it’s just a subconscious thing,” Jerry said. “Huh. Well, isn’t that something.”

An agonizing silence followed.

Jerry went on. “So. You gonna apologize?”

“For calling you an outlaw?”

Jerry snarled. “Forget it. I can’t expect someone from the Hearts to understand.”

“To be fair, Jerry,” Star said, “you _are_ an outlaw who ran away from your sentence. We could send you right back to toil.”

He growled in response. “Being told off by God herself. Hmph. Guess I should feel honored.”

“Don’t call me that,” Star said.

“What, don’t like taking responsibility for your mistakes?” Jerry smirked.

“Do you?” Star replied icily.

“L-let’s not get too heated,” Amia said. “Emily! We’re here for Emily, to help Jerry, remember?”

Jerry and Star continued their glares. Owen, able to see Star’s face from his angle, had to turn away. Jerry’s eyes were no better, and he ultimately drifted back to Zena, taking solace in her graceful ‘swim’ through the sky.

“So,” Owen said to Jerry, “life was pretty hard for you, huh?”

Jerry broke his glare to pay attention to his flight path. “Yeah,” he said. “Guess you could say that. Sure, maybe if I _toughed it out,_ I would be able to get a decent life for myself. But there were easier ways.”

“Like stealing,” Star said.

“Like _surviving_ away from a dead-end job,” Jerry said.

“Dead-end? You had it made!” Star said. “Do you know how good it is to get a job in construction?”

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Jerry said, beating his wings to gain some altitude on Star. “You have any idea how high the turnover is for a job like that? Chronic strain would’ve had me out in ten years! Then what?!”

“A-Anam wouldn’t allow something like that to happen,” Owen defended.

“And another thing, don’t you think it’s a little _weird_ that Anam’s the law of the land, the Association Head, _and_ the world’s grand priest?! Sounds like an awful lot of power, if you ask me. I don’t think he can manage playing _God of the Living_.”

“Nobody can,” Star mumbled.

“W-well,” Owen stuttered. “I don’t—I don’t think Anam’s been doing a bad job. The world’s fine, if you ignore all this Mystic stuff. Maybe you just aren’t—” Owen caught himself too late.

“Aren’t what?” Jerry asked. “Or are you siding with Ghrelle, saying I don’t have the right _character_ or _purity_ to make it in this world? That I’m some lazy trash? Is that it?”

Amia flinched, ready to speak up, but she couldn’t find the words. Gahi beat his wings irritably, but he lacked the eloquence to counter with anything meaningful. In a rare act of restraint, he said nothing, too. Manny listened with an uncharacteristic, somber silence. Zena looked at Owen, expecting him to respond. Star seemed lost in thought about something else.

“That’s—no,” Owen said. “You—you work hard. You wouldn’t be so strong if you didn’t work hard.” He looked down, stretching his wings for a steady glide.

“Hmph,” Jerry said. “I thought so. You just follow the label. I’m an outlaw. Doesn’t matter what or why. I’m a criminal, and you’re better than me for that. Pretty simple mindset. But you know what? I had to make the choice. I either had to doom myself to a short life, wasting away at unskilled labor just to make ends meet, or—actually survive, no matter what I had to do. I don’t _want_ to hurt people. But I needed to if I wanted to live a life of any sort of comfort that you privileged Hearts have handed to you.”

Owen nibbled on the right side of his tongue. How was he supposed to counter that? He had no idea what Jerry was talking about. Pokémon got along just fine. They worked, they got paid, and they got what they needed to live. It was simple. If there was a problem with the way the world worked—there would have been protests against Anam! Large ones!

“Owen,” Zena spoke up. “Is the world difficult to live in? I have been away for so long, but the time I’ve spent in Kilo Village—I don’t think I saw that much trouble.”

“It’s not that difficult,” Owen said. “You just need to get a good skillset, put yourself to use, and you can pretty much just find a job to take care of.”

Jerry growled. “You talk as if finding a job and getting skills is easy, and then you’re set for life. You aren’t. Sometimes you don’t have the resources to do something _the right way_. Got it?”

Star snapped to her senses. “Guys, c’mon.”

“Hmph, y’know what? Owen’s right,” Gahi said.

“Bah, what do you know,” Jerry said dismissively. “You’re a Heart. You’ve got the best sort of life.”

“Hah!” Gahi swayed threateningly closer to Jerry. “Easy, being a Heart? Don’t make me laugh. While all the normal folks get to live quiet lives, we’re the ones heading straight inter danger every day. We get paid well because we need supplies, and ‘cause without us, Pokémon would be in trouble and dying a whole lot more often. And y’know what? I think I’m starting ter understand why Anam rejected you. ‘Cause he has a sense fer this sorta thing. His power. He can peer inter yer heart, feel yer emotions. Figure that’s a Mystic quirk.”

“Oh, is that it?” Jerry said. “Anam, the great, compassionate Goodra, is literally able to feel what others feel? Well then enlighten me, Flygon—why did Anam reject me? Because I was too _mean_? To harsh? Too _scaaary_ for the adult hatchling to handle? I would’ve been the best new recruit they’d’ve ever gotten!”

“Hmph, no you wouldn’t,” Gahi said. “strength isn’t why Anam rejects people. That’s what the tests are fer.”

“Then WHAT?” Jerry shouted, seemingly convinced that Gahi knew the answer. “I had everything! I could’ve turned my life around! None of this would’ve happened if I was just accepted into the Association! All of it! So WHY?”

Gahi snorted. “That’s easy,” he said. “Why’d you wanna join the Association?”

“To make my life better. So I can actually make me and my family feel safe and secure with the future. So I could actually _survive_. What’s so wrong about that?!”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with it,” Gahi said. “But that ain’t enough. Figure I know why. D’you, Owen?”

Owen gulped. “Y-yeah. I know. I think I know.”

“What is it?” Zena and Jerry both asked—Zena in curiosity, Jerry with bitter impatience.

Owen winced. “It’s because you don’t care enough about _others_.”

Jerry stared at them in disbelieving, wide eyes. “How can—” he said, but he stopped himself. An opposing gust of wind disrupted their course, and the group of fliers had to swerve to stabilize on their way. The sun had finally set; what little light that had brightened the Chasm, by now, was gone completely. The ocean was a sea of undulating darkness, except for the distant factory where Steel Guardian Brandon resided to their left. This factory had no light, but was instead an even darker patch against the water.

“Don’t _care_ for—” Jerry said again. His wings beat twice, each one angrier than the last.

“ _How can I care about others when I can BARELY CARE FOR MYSELF?!”_

He made a nosedive toward the ocean to gain speed, and then tilted up to move forward. He didn’t care where he went; he didn’t even care if he lost his course. He just wanted to get away from them. He tilted his head back to get a look at his tail and feet. They were still solid. For just a brief moment, his thoughts trailed to the idea that if he melted, maybe he wouldn’t have to think about this anymore. The irrational thought remained in his head for longer than he’d wished, and he eventually shook it out.

“Aagh, what is he doing?” Gahi groaned.

“You guys need to stop pushing his buttons,” Star said.

“Oh, like you weren’t?” Gahi said.

“That was too far,” Star said. “Look, you guys have a point, but we’re trying to help him. If he runs off, we might lose him. Like, super-lose him.”

“He heading the right way?” Manny asked.

“Yeah. He’s fine. Let’s just keep up.”

“So, how exactly are we going to spot Emily’s place?” Owen said.

“I know the way,” Star said. “But if you guys aren’t sure, uhh, let’s see,” Star scanned the group. “Anybody know Flash?”

No reply.

She sighed. “Yeah, I figured.” She looked down. “Hmm. Well, if Emily’s around, I can sense her aura. Otherwise, we’ll be able to see it on the ocean as a little darker spot. There’s still a little bit of light left. If we speed it up, we’ll actually see it.”

Gahi grumbled. “It’s getting real dark,” he said. “Kinda… tired, y’know.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Amia said. “You… you’re a little sleepy, huh? I forgot that normal people have to sleep. I wonder if Jerry’s feeling tired, too.”

“Doubt it, after getting upset like that,” Star said. “He might be used to long nights.”

“Um, Gahi, er,” Owen said. “If you need help, maybe we can fuse. Then you won’t have to sleep. Does that sound—”

Gahi crashed into Owen, melting into his side. Owen gasped in surprise and swerved through the air, twirling without direction. He fell a quarter of the way to the ocean, and then outstretched his four wings, righting himself. “Ugh—” Gawen muttered. “I’m kinda worried that I’m getting used to that.”

Star giggled. “Doing alright, there?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“Not, um, not feeling antsy at all, dear?” Amia asked.

“I’m _fine_ , Mom,” Gawen said. “Gahi’s actually resting. I think he fused differently this time. It feels like he’s… just a little bit there, in the back of my head.”

“Oh, there are different degrees of fusing together?” Zena asked.

“I guess so,” Gawen said. “But with Gahi further in, I feel like I can use the Owen part of me a lot easier. Hey, that’s right—so, think I can just use my Awareness to find the cave?”

“I’d be careful about that, but go ahead,” Star said. “You know how open areas can make you feel lost. This is about as open as you can get.”

“N-no, it’s fine. With Gahi in here, it feels… like I can’t expand it as much. It’s not as easy to lose it. Um… but I don’t feel anything yet. I—oh, wait! There!” Gawen gently banked to the right. “See? It’s right there!”

“I see it,” Zena said. “I hope Jerry did.”

“Yep, I see his aura,” Manny said.

The others focused; now that they were closer, they could see the Aerodactyl’s aura standing just at the edge. It was flaring with a mixture of raw emotions, and Gawen felt, simultaneously, pity and annoyance toward the outlaw, an emotion from both his halves.

“Whoa, you alright there, Gawen?” Star asked. “Felt your aura do a weird little pulse there.”

“S-sorry,” Gawen said. “Felt some conflict in my head, uh, I think the Gahi half is annoyed, but the Owen half feels bad, or something.”

“Sounds about right.” Star sighed. “…Uh—wait. Are my aura eyes crossed, or am I counting four auras?”

“Can aura eyes cross?” Manny said.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I kinda don’t.”

“Just—count the freaking auras.”

They all did. They saw a single, gigantic aura—that was most definitely Lugia Emily. Frankly, they probably would have noticed her even if they couldn’t see normally. Seemed that she was home tonight. They also saw the tiny—relatively—aura of Vaporeon Tanneth. It seemed that she was resting on Emily’s shoulder. Or _in_ her shoulder. They also saw Jerry… and then, another Jerry.

“Oy, what?” Manny said.

They descended to investigate, landing on the soft sands. The water was cold on their feet. Gawen in particular sank a few inches into the cold sand, shivering with each wave of water that brushed on his scales.

Gawen focused and split in half. Gahi stumbled forward and rubbed at the area just beneath his eye-covers, yawning. Owen advanced into the cave, grabbing his tail to light the way.

“Oh, there’s your friends!” Emily said. Her booming voice shook the entire island; every step of the Lugia threatened to knock the group off their feet.

 _Not all Lugia are this big, right?_ Owen said. _She’s almost as big as the Heart!_

“Hi, Em!” Star waved. “Good to see you again!”

“Oh, hi! You’re pretty!” Emily said. “Oh, you’re so tiny, too! You’re even tinier than Tanneth!” Emily faced Jerry. “Your friends are cool!”

“Nrgh, they aren’t my friends,” Jerry muttered.

“Found the real Jerry,” Star said. “So who’s—”

The second Jerry, in the darkness, suddenly shifted forms. The silhouette of an Aerodactyl meshed and transitioned before their eyes into a floating, tiny creature—Mew.

“A-another Mew?!” Owen said.

“Getting warmer, Owen,” the second Mew said in a voice that exactly matched Star.

“W-wait, how’d you—” Owen suddenly felt an icy pit in his stomach. He recognized this person. No—he didn’t, not this specific form, aside from it being Star. But he knew _who_ it was. The same person they heard in the Chasm of the Void, before the darkness had gone away.

“He’s not a Mew, silly!” Emily giggled. “He’s a Ditto! And he’s really funny!”

The Ditto, as a Mew, gave a little wave to Owen. When he looked at him, he instantly expanded, landing heavily on the ground, and became another Owen—complete with the mutations imbued within his Charizard base.

Their two flames washed the nighttime with light. And in that light, Owen finally saw this Ditto for the first time in many, many lives. Of the ones he could remember, at least. Flashes of old memories all throughout his scrambled mind danced in front of Owen’s vision. Based on Gahi’s dazed expression, he was seeing something similar.

What worried Owen the most was that the icy pit in his stomach was fading. Owen spoke without thinking.

“Dad…”

Eon grinned, holding his arms and wings out. “It’s good to see you again, Owen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There used to be a Special Episode next, called "Storm." If you never read it yet, it has been moved (for pacing and narrative purposes) all the way back in Act I, right before "Twisted Minds." Reading it right now is a good time as well as back then!
> 
> And thank you for reading!


	55. Burn Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen watches as three of his parents clash for the right to call themselves his parents. Emily's home is ruined in the process.

Amia stepped forward protectively. The first step was followed quickly by a second. Soon, the momentum completely dissolved the paralysis she once had at the sight of Eon.

“Amia!” Star shouted.

But she didn’t stop. She stood beside Owen, and then held him on the shoulder.

“Mom?” Owen asked, looking down.

“Stay away from him, Owen,” Amia said softly. She pulled him back.

“Owen,” Eon said, “don’t let her push you around. It’s me! Don’t you remember me?”

“You _murdered_ Guardians like Owen,” Amia said. “Forrest and Cara were—”

“They were dead long before I met them,” Eon said coolly. When he looked at Amia, his body slimmed down into an exact copy, including her voice. “What kind of life is it to be sealed away, alone, for the sole purpose of keeping two dead gods in power? That isn’t living. That’s purgatory. That’s _prison_.”

Zena, on Owen’s other side, visibly flinched. The Charizard eyed her, but realized why—what Eon just said must have resonated with her particularly strongly. He glanced at Star, but she was missing. He focused in an effort to find her; she was hiding behind Emily, who was nervously scratching her massive arm with her teeth. It seemed like Emily was ignorant to the full scope of their conversation; to her, it was just an argument between people she didn’t know, taking place in her home.

Amia didn’t break her stare. Flames the same color as Amia’s blue arm enveloped her fist.

“I freed them,” Eon said. “They are, literally, in a better place now.”

“They could have been with us,” Amia said. “They could have been happy!”

“Forrest was sick of living. He didn’t even put up a fight,” said Eon. “Star conveniently didn’t have you speak to him, did she?”

“F-Forrest said that he wasn’t interested in talking,” Owen spoke up.

“Who told you that?”

“S… Star…”

Eon didn’t reply to Owen. Instead, he looked back at Amia. “Cara is easily swayed by others. Star used her silver tongue to keep her in check, thinking that everything she did was worth it. But really, was it?” he asked. “Was it worth it, Star? You can stop hiding behind . . .”

Owen blinked. “Wait, what was that last bit you said?” he asked.

Eon looked at Owen with a gleam of realization in his eyes. “Oh, of course,” he said. “The Decree. You don’t know what Emily is, do you?”

“I guess we don’t,” Owen said. “Arceus made it so we wouldn’t. Even Emily doesn’t know, right?”

“Know what?” Emily asked, nervously pulling her arm away from her mouth—a thick line of drool connected the two.

“Hmph. There’s no point, then. You have to get stronger so you can resist Arceus’ warping of reality.”

“Is that a Decree?”

“Mysticism, Promises, Decrees—it’s all the same thing,” Eon said. “It all stems from the ability to warp reality to your will. Mysticism is localized to wherever the user is. Promises are rules between two Mystics, with the effect of breaking one resulting on the forfeiture of one’s power. It’s just another rule, with consequences. And Decrees permeate the universe, like a fundamental law of reality, no different than gravity. Which, as you know, Mystics can ignore, if they’re strong enough. Same power, different scope.”

Owen sighed. “Whatever it is,” he said, “we don’t know what you said. I guess we can’t resist it yet.”

“Ain’t that a shame,” Manny said, crossing his arms, tense. He was waiting for Eon to make the first move, but none came. He looked at Owen. Surely the mutant would sense if Eon was planning something. “Oy. Where’s yer army, anyway? The mutants yeh send after everyone.”

“This wasn’t a mission to gather an Orb,” Eon said. “So, no. I didn’t think to bring any of them with me. I’d appreciate if you didn’t call them _mutants_. How do you think Owen feels about that? Or Gahi?”

“Eh?” Manny asked.

Gahi rubbed his arm. “Eh…”

“I guess it has a bad ring to it,” Owen admitted quietly. “But what should we be called? Mods? Synthetics?”

“Pokémon,” Eon said firmly.

Manny laughed a bit too loudly. “C’mon, I’ve got a whole army of ‘em, and even we think it’s a little silly.”

“Why?” Eon asked, becoming Manny. “Are they not Pokémon?”

“Well, sure,” Manny said, “but—”

“Then that’s all we need,” Eon said.

Amia looked at Owen again, nodding. She didn’t want to admit that Eon was right—but this was just what she had been trying to tell him, too. “You’re just Owen to me, dear,” she said. “You, too, Gahi. I’m sure Rhys would say the same thing.”

Gahi looked at Owen uncertainly. Would Rhys, really?

“Why’d you come here, Eon?” Star said, emerging from behind Emily.

“Well, to be honest,” Eon said, facing Owen. He immediately shifted to a Charizard form. “I came here so I could take Owen and Gahi home.”

“What?” Owen said. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Eon held out a hand to Owen, even though they were many paces apart. “Owen, once I found out you got your memories back, I knew you’d remember life at home. Don’t you want to come back?”

Owen’s feet felt like they were glued to the ground.

Amia’s were not. She instantly took a step closer to Eon.

Star piped up. “Amia, don’t—"

“Whoa, Amia, back up!” Manny shouted.

“Get back!” Zena said.

“You,” Amia said, pointing directly at Eon’s chest, “are _not_ taking Owen away. He is _my_ son, and his home is with _us_.”

Eon was a Gardevoir, now. An exact copy of Amia, staring right at her. They were feet apart. Owen gulped. What disturbed him the most wasn’t that they looked identical, but that they behaved identically, too. The same glare. The same tense muscles. The only reason Owen knew who was who was because Eon was farther away.

He leaned close. “Owen is _not_ your son.”

Emily’s cave was alight with the glow of blue fire. The dark rocks, damp from the ocean’s rising and falling tides, glistened a brilliant azure. Amia’s eyes were blazing; her blue hair had turned into an inferno of the same color, dancing atop her head, and her dress did the same thing. A living, white-hot beacon, the Gardevoir stepped forward with her arm straight ahead. Owen sidestepped and slammed against the wall to avoid whatever his mother had planned, feeling the heat even from behind her.

Eon had briefly become a copy of Owen when he glanced at the mutant, but he shifted back to a Gardevoir when he looked at his attacker. He stared at his hands. “Ngh—that’s not—”

Amia fired. Jerry threw himself against the wall and rolled to Owen’s location, scrambling past him. He used the Charizard as a living shield, figuring that he’d do a better job at withstanding the heat than he would. “H-hey!” Owen said. “Th-this is kinda too hot for me, too!”

“Sh-she’s your Mom, get her to clam down!” Jerry said, jabbing him in the back.

Eon had his hand forward, blocking and deflecting the flames. The beam of white fire hit the walls, turning some of the rocks into flowing lava; sparks and embers danced in the air, biting at Eon’s sides. He lost his focus—the flames ate away at his hand. He shouted in surprise and pain and then brought his second hand forward. His blue hair shifted to a clear white, and an intense air pressure blasted Amia backwards. Her flames flickered from the wind. Everybody else was blown clear out of the cave, including Emily. Her massive form rolled over Manny, Owen, and Jerry, where they became trapped under some portion of her belly.

Amia hopped to her feet; the sand beneath her dress melted and crystalized into glass. Emily’s huge wing-arm, nearest to Amia, blackened instantly. She pulled her arm back in amazement, staring at its burned flesh.

“D-don’t burn my cave!” Emily shouted. She looked like she wanted to step in, but didn’t know what she could do to stop them. The flames were so intense that her body would burn up if she got too close. Even if she could heal, she wouldn’t be able to grab them if anything she touched burned away.

“Listen to the Lugia!” Eon yelled, blasting more wind out. “I’m just here to—”

Amia waved her right arm horizontally in a brutal swing; aura embers scattered before her. Magmortar Alex took the center, right next to Amia—and the entirety of the old Hot Spot Cave inhabitants took on the flanks.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!” Amia roared.

Every single spirit fired a volley of flames toward Eon at once. Alex launched two explosive wads of fire into the mix; Amia accented the onslaught with her own blue-white blasts.

Owen and the others had to shield themselves from both the intense light and heat. Even for Owen, the fire felt hotter than he was used to. The ethereal properties made it sting, much like the flames associated with a Pokémon’s normal techniques.

Amia didn’t stop her onslaught until some of the spirits next to her flickered. A few of the spirits vanished outright, returning to their host. The Gardevoir, with flames as blue as her hair, finally stopped her stream then. Her hair returned to its normal, blue, non-fire state. Emily’s cave was red-hot and the sand near the entrance, now glass, glittered against the idle embers. Emily pat her belly to put out a residual flame. Tanneth had long since fled into Emily’s shoulder to avoid the fight completely.

The Lugia reached out to try to calm Amia down, but getting within grabbing distance burned her hand to ash. She stared, wide-eyed at her futility, and pulled her stump of an arm away.

Eon was near the mouth of the cave, still taking the form of Amia. His hand was slightly burned, but that was all he had sustained. Amia, seeing this, took a threatening step forward—as did all of her spirits in perfect unison.

“I’m not here to fight, you know!” Eon said. “Why don’t you hear me out, and we’ll—”

Alex and half of the spirits that surrounded her blasted Eon with another volley of rainbow flames. Eon held out his hands again and brought up a column of sand with the power of the Ground Orb imbued within him—his body became that of sand, a light tan color akin to Owen’s stomach.

When the flames died down again, even more of Amia’s spirits flickered and returned to the Fire Orb. Now only five spirits remained: Alex, an Arcanine, a Lampent, a Fennekin, a fiery Buizel with twin flames instead of tails, and a Swalot made of the same material as a Slugma.

Eon glanced at Owen; his body expanded and shifted. His dress merged with his thighs, which thickened and became encrusted in scales; claws burst from his hands, just as wings exploded out of his back. Horns grew from his head—and in no time at all, he was a perfect replica of the mutant Charizard. Eon stared at the ground just ahead of Amia’s feet. “Please, I don’t want to fight,” he said. “Mom, can’t you calm down?”

Amia was silent for only a second. “How _dare_ you,” she said in a voice that made both Eon and Owen gulp.

Another blast of heat sent Eon straight against the back of the cave, slamming into the rocks. Eon left an Owen-shaped print in the wall behind him, and the Charizard grunted irritably. “Thought that’d last longer,” he muttered.

“You have the—the GALL,” Amia said, blasting Eon for a second, and then a third time, “to impersonate my son—after… after _all_ that you’ve done…?” Her eyes were literally flames in their sockets.

Fourth, and then a fifth, sending Eon further and further into the wall. The Owen-shaped print that he left was well-defined thanks to the heat, like a Charizard mold for history to rediscover later. All of the spirits except for Alex vanished.

Realizing this, the Magmortar worriedly held Amia on the shoulder. “Amia—we’re too close. We need to go back—if Eon strikes—It’s too hot for the others to—”

Eon glanced at Alex briefly—and instantly, his body bulked out. His shoulders widened and his wings vanished; his arms became cannons, and soon, he was an exact replica of Alex. “Not what I wanted—” Eon hissed. “Can we stop this? This is absurd! Just—”

“Oh, and you think turning into my mate will help?” Amia said. “Your mind games won’t work on me, Hunter, I—” Amia’s tiny hands clenched. “Oooough, I can’t _believe_ you’d do something so underhanded…!” She threw her hands down beside her. Both Owen and Alex had never seen Amia so upset before.

Eon tried to speak up. “Wait, that’s not—”

Amia’s hair ignited again into a white-hot torch. Immediately below Amia, the cave’s floor reddened into molten rock. Clear flames—visible only by the distortion of light that it caused—careened toward Eon, igniting his body again. He held his arms forward in an X-formation, shielding himself from the blast—but even for a Magmortar’s body, these particular flames ate away at him.

Owen watched Amia worriedly. Was she really doing it? Fighting Eon, right there? He wasn’t even fighting back. He didn’t even look pained. Was this the power of two Orbs? Or was Eon’s form—as Alex, as himself—actually having an effect on Amia after all, weakening her Mystic _willpower_? Owen recalled the fight against Jerry.

“M-Mom!” Owen shouted. “Get back! You—”

Something flashed. Owen saw it for just a second between Amia’s blasts. The white flame atop her head flickered and faded away, and it returned to her blue hair instead. And then—green. Her hair went from blue and flashed _green_.

“Mom?” Owen said.

Eon, between the blasts, said, “Are you—”

Amia fired again, but this time she nearly lost her balance.

“Forget this—” Eon hissed. “I said—LISTEN!”

A shockwave rocked the entire island; Amia screamed when a concentrated blast of wind knocked her off her feet, sending her straight back to the mouth of the cave. Owen lunged and caught her, grunting when the impact knocked the wind out of him.

He wheezed for a while, staring down at the Gardevoir. Her hands were trembling and her body shivered with fatigue. “O-Owen…” Amia said, looking up.

“Mom—”

He saw it again. The blue hair that he was so familiar with was fading to green. A normal, green Gardevoir.

“Mom! What’s happening to you?”

“What do you mean, dear?” Amia said, slowly sitting up. Owen had to support her. “I feel _just fine_.”

“You’re green!”

Owen felt Amia’s heart skip a beat. “Excuse me?” she said. She then looked at her arm; it, too, was transitioning from its characteristic blue to a typical green.

“You strained your Mystic powers so much that you’ve exhausted even the most basic aspects of it,” Eon said, crossing his arms. He transformed into a Gardevoir again—this time, green, just like Amia.

“Stop doing that!” Jerry said, pointing at Eon irritably.

“As if I can help it!” Eon growled, missing a step when he abruptly transitioned into an Aerodactyl. “Ugh—forget this—where’s my blindfold—” He tried to grab for something invisible around his neck, but then he turned his head back. He eyed an ashen pile in the corner of the cave. “That… was my _lucky scarf_ ,” Eon said lowly.

Owen gulped. “I—I’m sorry,” he said.

“Owen!” Zena said. “Don’t apologize to him!”

“S-sorry!” Owen said to Zena.

“Somebody!” Jerry shouted, raising his wings. Apparently, he finally recovered from the shock of the clash. “Explain! Now!”

Eon eyed Jerry, then the others. “Who’s he?”

“Someone we’re trying to help,” Star said. “Got melted by Ghrelle, so we were trying to get Emily to heal him.”

Eon winced, becoming another Mew that floated in the air. “None of that sounds fun,” he said.

Zena stared coldly at Eon, trying to gauge whether the sand or cave was still too hot to approach.

Eon glanced at Zena next; his body plopped on the ground, losing its limbs in exchange for long, beautiful coils. “Don’t think to attack me,” he said. “You already saw what happened to Gardevoir.”

The Milotic hesitated, but then looked at Owen. “The fact that you aren’t attacking us right now means—that you can’t beat us! If we all attack you—”

“I can just leave, you know,” Eon said. “I _came here_ to talk to Owen and Gahi, and when I heard that you were heading to Emily’s home, I waited for you there. I even promised Hecto that I wouldn’t attack you guys.”

“Was it a Divine Promise?” Zena asked.

“W-well—I’m certainly keeping the normal promise, aren’t I?” Eon asked.

“Hmph. A Hunter’s word means nothing to me,” Zena said. Mystic energy circled around the Water Guardian, warping the light around her.

“Wait,” Owen said, holding Zena’s upper coils. This was enough to make her hesitate. “If he wants to talk, then he’ll just talk. Right? He—you don’t want to hurt me, right?”

“I don’t,” Eon said. “And I don’t want to hurt your friends, either, if I can avoid it.”

“Oh,” Manny said, “like we’re gonna believe _that_ load of—”

“I believe ‘im,” Gahi said. “Besides, I wanna ask a few questions.”

“Me, too,” Owen said. “E-Eon. Did you kill the Dark Guardian?”

“Nate?” Eon asked. “No. I invited him over to the lab. He took the offer.”

“Why would—” Owen shook his head. “So, you’re saying that Nate’s okay?”

“Yes.”

“Do you Promise?”

“Owen, you know if I’m lying,” Eon said, crossing his Charizard arms irritably.

A tense silence filled the air. A particularly strong ocean wave washed against their feet; Jerry irritably raised one of his legs, wanting nothing to do with the cold water. Owen felt the same, taking a few paces forward.

Eon wasn’t lying. There was no extra tension in the way he behaved—but then again, for all he knew, Eon was better at hiding it. Perhaps he learned from Nevren, who was equally unreadable half the time. Owen could read bodies, not the mind. “I still don’t know, D—Eon,” he said.

Eon winced. “You can’t even call me Dad anymore? You just did a little while ago!”

“I—I slipped up, okay? My—my real Dad is with Mom.” He motioned to the green Gardevoir. “And… he’s a Magmortar.” He brought his head down, clenching his fists. “I’m sorry. But they’ve raised me for a lot longer than you have.”

Even without looking, Owen could feel his duplicate’s body deflate, his breathing slow. Wings drooped, just slightly, but then rose back up.

“I see,” Eon said. His voice was small. “Well. Alright then. But I’m still your Dad, Owen. And if you ever want to call me that again, I’ll happily accept. Quartz Archipelago is always open to you.”

Owen didn’t respond.

Gahi pointed an accusatory claw at Eon. “Why’d yeh make me crazy?! Back in the Void!”

Eon huffed. “It was high time that you guys returned to your true forms. I knew that you’d’ve recovered.”

“I WENT NUTS!”

“You’re fine now!” Eon countered.

Gahi growled. His eyes darted around Eon—now a mutant Flygon—searching for an opening. He saw none. He was tempted to strike anyway.

“I’m sorry that it gave you a scare,” Eon said, “but I guess I—got a little irritated after that _feral_ bit me on the arm.”

Owen recalled when they had tried to attack Eon in the dark. He had bumped into Enet, which made her lash out in her own, wild way.

“It was about time you rediscovered your powers, anyway,” Eon said. “It turned out just fine for you, don’t you think?”

“You mean you _wanted_ us to be sane?” Owen said.

“Of course!” Eon said. “I was sick of Rhys taking it so slowly. Constantly resetting you over and over must have been pure torture for your minds.”

Owen flinched.

Eon looked at Owen again, and therefore became him. “Don’t you agree? I bet you _still_ can’t sort through anything between your first and last resets. It’s all a blur. Owen, can you even remember how you met Zena?”

Gahi shifted uncomfortably. Owen didn’t want to think about it, but now that Eon was bringing it up, he was right. That time was a blur. He could barely remember even _that_. It was all just vague memories. Notions of what had happened. No event stood out in his mind at all. It felt important. It felt like there were _important events_ that took place that he couldn’t remember. Why did that bother him so much? No, that was a silly question. Of course it’d bother him. Entire chunks of his past, his _self_ , were still obscured and scrambled. And it sounded like Eon knew the truth.

Eon, satisfied with their lack of counters, continued. “And—and how are Demitri and Mispy?”

“They’re fine,” Gahi said. “Figure they’re the least bothered outta all of us.”

Eon nodded, but then eyed Manny. He transformed into him. “…You,” he said.

“Eh?” he said.

“Gahi ran off a long time ago and met you,” Eon said.

“Eh. Yeah,” Manny said. “What of it?”

“Thank you for dealing with him.”

It was Manny’s turn to flinch. “Yeah, it’s whatever,” he said.

Amia suddenly spoke up. “Get away from here.”

“Does Owen want me gone?” Eon said, turning into a Gardevoir.

“I said,” Amia pushed away from Owen, staggering to her feet. Her hair was blue again. “Get… _away_. You aren’t… to _ever_ … come near my son again.”

“Mom…” Owen nibbled on the right side of his tongue. “I…”

Eon glanced at Owen again, transforming into him.

That was enough to set Amia into another rage. She held her arm forward and lit up again; Eon held his arms and wings forward, ready for the attack. Using Owen’s own Protect technique, the flames were deflected off of him and onto the cave walls by the shield of light. Yet Amia kept firing, even when the barrier faded. Eon grunted, waiting it out. Owen saw Amia’s hair fade to green again, yet the flames continued.

“Mom, you need to stop!” Owen said.

“Listen to your son, Amia!” Star yelled. “You’re losing control! Hello?! Amia?! AMIA!”

Amia wasn’t listening. She just kept firing. Manny tried to get close to shake her out of it, but his entire arm burst into flames when he got within two paces of her. He jumped away and yelped in surprise, landing in the ocean water to put the fire out.

Amia’s arms were made entirely of fire. She got to her knees. They, too, were on fire—no, they _were_ fire. Her dress was evaporating into even more of the rock-melting flurry, and Eon kept his wings closed, shielding himself from most of the blast. He attempted to summon a barrier of light again, but to no effect. It flickered, and then vanished.

Star slammed against Zena’s side. “Put her out!” she told her.

“What?”

“Amia! Water! Now!”

Zena stared, wide-eyed, at Star. “No,” she said. “Why would I—”

“ _Do I look like I’m joking_?!” Star said, shaking Zena as much as her tiny, transparent body could.

The distrust in Zena’s eyes spoke volumes, but the desperation in Star’s spoke more.

Zena opened her mouth and launched a concentrated jet of cold water at Amia; it evaporated almost halfway by the time it got to her, but some of it did make contact. Amia screamed so loudly that Owen had to cover the horns on his head—he felt them _vibrate_ from the Gardevoir’s wail. Zena kept going, her body liquefying completely. She dipped her tail into the ocean, and the saltwater fused with her being. For just an instant, she gained control of the water by the beach. It washed past them and over Amia and Eon, dousing her completely in the flood.

Zena stopped and solidified again. Star rushed through the steam with Owen; the Charizard knelt down to pick Amia up.

“Mom? Mom, can you—”

Amia felt incredibly light, but it was too hard to see the details in the steam. But he could hear her shallow breathing.

Eon coughed out water. “Oh, don’t worry about me or anything,” he wheezed.

“Owen…” Amia said weakly. “I… I can’t feel my…”

The steam faded. Owen’s eyes widened.

Amia was nothing but a torso and a head. Her dress was halfway gone, and her legs were entirely missing as well. Her arms were flaming stumps, embers flickering at the ends.

“What happened?” Owen breathed.

“I can’t see… Owen, are you there? Who is this?” Amia asked, trying to move her stump. The way she was staring blankly ahead suggested she couldn’t see.

“I’m here, Mom. Mom?”

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t hear.

Eon hobbled to his feet, keeping his eyes closed. The flame on the end of his tail reignited, and he groped the ground to go forward. “How does Owen do this Awareness—ugh—can’t see a thing without eyes,” he muttered.

“G-get away,” Owen said.

“Shut up,” Eon hissed. “I’m going to save your _mother_ , if you don’t mind!”

He felt around the ground for a good foothold and finally stood up.

Owen held Amia a bit harder.

“Oh, Owen, I’m just fine,” Amia said quietly. “I’m feeling better already.” Her voice was fading.

“Stupid Gardevoir,” the duplicate Charizard muttered.

Owen glared.

“I’m pretty sure you’re glaring at me, Owen, but you know it’s true. She pushed herself beyond her limits and her Mysticism ate away at her own aura for more power.”

“Ate her body, too,” Gahi muttered.

“When your Mysticism becomes strong enough,” Eon said slowly, “the body and aura are one and the same.”

Owen looked back down at Amia. Her blue hair returned for passing moments, but then faded to green again. She was fighting to stay alive, but it looked like a losing battle. He held Amia a bit tighter. He noticed a gentle, golden glow poking out from parts of her body and blinked confusedly. He looked at Eon; the way he stared at this golden light was not one of confusion, but horror.

“You,” Eon said, pointing at the air. “Heal the Gardevoir. _Quickly._ ”

Emily glanced around and sidestepped into Eon’s pointed direction. “Me?” she asked.

“Yes. You’ll restore her aura just fine. I don’t know if the others can help her in time, and I’m not touching her. She’ll just lash out at me. Hurry, before she fades.”

“Okay.” Emily approached.

“Oh, and Em?” Star said. “Once you help Amia, we need you to help Aerodactyl. His aura is hurt, too.”

“Okay!”

“Emily can heal _that_?” Jerry asked in awe.

“Yeah. She’s pretty nifty,” Star said. “Manny?”

“Eh?”

“Restrain Jerry.”

“Eh.”

Before Jerry could react, a Feraligatr held Jerry on the shoulders.

“Ha ha!” Feraligatr Azu declared. “The outlaw has been apprehended once more! Prepare for your rehabilitation!”

“H-hey, hey, what kind of joke is this?!” Jerry struggled. “I have a _thousand_ different questions to ask right now!”

“And you have been apprehended by the _Thousand_ Heart Association! How fitting!”

“That makes no sense!” Jerry managed to free his right wing; he started beating Azu over the head with it, flailing as much as he could. “What are you—where’d Amia go?”

Jerry saw a lump go down Emily’s throat, and a distinct lack of Gardevoir in the general area. The Lugia then turned around and walked toward Jerry in casual, slow steps.

“Your turn!” Emily said.

“N-nooo, no. No, no—NONONO—AAAAAA—Mmmmnnnn…!”

With Jerry and Amia taken care of, Star sighed. “That’s _not_ how I wanted this to go,” she said. “Eon! Just get out of—where’d he go?”

“He left,” Gahi said. “Disappeared a little while after Em ate Owen’s mom.”

“Please don’t describe it like that,” Owen said.

“Emily literally—”

“Please,” Owen begged.

Gahi rolled his eyes, but then let his wings droop. Something seemed to be bothering him, Owen observed.

Owen turned his attention to the ruined cave. Parts of the walls were melted and still red-hot, even after the ocean water that doused it. The sand near the front of the cave was sharp with imperfect glass. In the complete darkness of midnight, only Owen’s single tail flame and the glow of the rocks lit the island. The only sound was the gentle bubbling of salt water on sand.

With Eon and Amia both gone, Owen ended up thinking about them both. He glanced at Gahi, using his tail to give off a faint outline of his face. The Synthetic Flygon was staring at the empty space where Eon once was.


	56. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerry and Amia try to recover their auras under Emily's care.

“OUT! NOW!”

Solid rocks slammed against the fleshy walls that surrounded Jerry. He spun around to make sure he was as far away as possible from any portion of it, and even beat his wings to make sure he wasn’t touching the floor. He spat more rocks against the wall, but they just bounced harmlessly off, shattering on the floor.

Amia was silent in the corner of the room. Without sight, hearing, arms, or legs, all she could do was feel with her back and her head. Though, she had a peaceful smile on her face, knowing that she would be fine. It was hard to mistake Emily’s chamber for anything else, having been there once before.

“I will NOT die this way!” Jerry shouted. He took a breath, ready to spit out another wad of solid rock, but nothing came. He didn’t feel that solid mass forming in the back of his throat. He didn’t have the aura for it—too strained. He coughed out a few pebbles and roughly shook his head. “Ungh—not like this… not like this…!”

He was starting to tire out.

“The air—there’s no air in here,” Jerry said, hyperventilating. He looked down at Amia. Motionless as ever. He looked up at the ceiling, where Emily’s throat had been completely shut. “I have to—”

“Hey, Mister!”

Jerry spun in the air. In the strange, glowing flesh, he saw someone near Amia. A blue creature that was partially attached to the walls.

“What?” Jerry said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Vaporeon Tanneth!” She waved a paw at him. “It’s okay! Emily’s perfectly safe!”

“Yeah, no. Let me out!”

“Sorry, but we can’t do that,” Tanneth said. “Oh! Um, by the way, when you came in here, you dropped this! Do you need it? It seems really important.” She held up a scarf.

“What? W-wait!” Jerry clutched at his neck, but this caused him to stop flying. He yelped and beat his wings harder, maintaining his altitude. But that split-second he had to feel his neck indicated, indeed, that he wasn’t wearing the Stable Scarf anymore. He worriedly glanced at his feet, and then his tail, but it all looked normal.

“What’s the matter?” Tanneth asked, tilting her head. “It’s okay! It’s only a little wet!”

“It’s _wet_?” Jerry repeated. He weighed his options. On one hand, he could probably just put that on and it would dry off after a while. On the other, maybe being a puddle of sludge wouldn’t be so bad. After all, melting didn’t hurt—at least, not the sort of melting he had experienced. And it wouldn’t be _nearly_ as bad as whatever this Lugia and her demonic belly-dweller Vaporeon had in store.

“It’s okay! I’ll dry it off!” Tanneth got on her hind legs, using her thick tail to retain balance when she leaned back. She shook her front paws furiously, flinging water—Jerry _hoped_ it was just water—in all directions. “There! All dry!”

Jerry stared. He didn’t need to fly closer, or even squint, to know that what Tanneth did was nowhere _near_ enough to satisfy a Rock Type on what it meant to be _dry_. “Listen, Water,” Jerry said, “I don’t know what it means to be _dry_ for someone like you, but me? That cloth is still wet. Very wet. It may not be dripping, but it’s still not touching me. Ever.”

“No, it’s damp! That’s a lot drier than wet!”

“IT’S NOT DRY!” Jerry’s wings were getting tired. There wasn’t any updraft in this place—he was either going to lose his stability from exhaustion, or he’d find a place to land. His eyes scanned the ground. It all looked the same. He grumbled and finally transitioned into a steady glide, sticking out his feet for a landing.

His toes squished against the malleable flesh. The Aerodactyl gagged, shutting his eyes tight. This entire day has been one long nightmare, and this was the finale, sealed away inside a Legendary demon with no chance to escape, under the pretense of being _healed_. He should have known better than to trust a bunch of freaks, Hearts, and freak Hearts.

He heard the squishy pitter-patter of the Vaporeon coming closer. He reluctantly opened his eyes to reintroduce himself to his surroundings. He focused on Tanneth; the Stable Scarf was in her mouth. She stuck her head out, offering it to Jerry. It was a bit darker, and it hung heavily from her teeth. But it was either that, or die. No, not even die. Star said she didn’t know where the auras of those who melted went. That could mean a lot of things…

Jerry reached out and touched the scarf. Squish. His claws hesitantly wrapped around it completely and pulled back. It felt lukewarm. Tanneth let go, giggling. “See? Dry!”

In that moment, there was no fiber in Jerry’s being that had even an ounce of joy toward the Vaporeon, the Lugia, or anybody else on that entire island. For the briefest moments, he wondered what it was that led to this very instance. Trapped and eaten, forced to choose between adorning himself with a Lugia-soaked scarf, or a death that would not even grant him the peace of the aura sea. Was it petty? Perhaps it was. But in that instance, Jerry considered throwing the scarf back at Tanneth.

“What’s wrong?” Tanneth asked.

Jerry stared at the scarf. That wasn’t going around his neck. “Nothing. Shouldn’t you be chatting with the monster?”

“Monster?” Tanneth asked.

“The one who ate us.”

“Aw, she didn’t eat you, silly!” Tanneth said, giggling. “Emily doesn’t eat!”

No words or sounds left Jerry. There was something in his mind—some small, quiet part of his mental fortitude that finally crumbled away. Perhaps it happened when he stared at Tanneth’s closed, happy eyes. Perhaps it was earlier, when he finally touched the scarf. Or perhaps even still, it was just the culmination of everything in his life that led to that moment. Jerry was sure it was all of these things. But whatever it was, it was enough for him to finally nod to the Vaporeon. He put a smile on his face, dropped the scarf on the ground, and said, “Go away.”

“Oh! Okay.” Tanneth nodded. “You need your rest! I’ll see you later. You look okay, but your friend will probably need all night until she’s better.”

Jerry said nothing. He only waved at Tanneth with his right wing, still smiling. He practically mirrored Tanneth’s expression. This satisfied her, and she waved back with her paw, sank into the walls, and left them alone.

The Aerodactyl waved for a bit longer, as if to be sure that she wouldn’t peek and see him suddenly stop waving. Once he felt an appropriate amount of time passed, he brought his wing to his side. He took two paces to the left and turned around, looking at the walls. He then looked up, at the fleshy ceiling, and at the sealed hole that blocked the way to Emily’s esophagus.

Jerry closed his eyes and nodded to himself. And then, he looked back at the wall.

Jerry screamed. With a single, deep breath, and with every ounce of strain in his throat, the Aerodactyl opened his mouth as wide as he could and yelled as loudly as his chest allowed. All of his fears, all of his disbelief, all of his complete resignation was concentrated and distilled into a single, drawn-out roar.

He eventually ran out of air. He panted, grunting, hunched over. His tail flicked angrily, slamming wetly against the ground. The only reason he wasn’t clawing at the walls was because he didn’t want to get any more of the creature on him than he had to.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PLACE?!” Jerry roared to the sky. “These—these freaks?! Spirits? Mystics? WHY? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?” He panted again, regaining his breath. He paced across the chamber, feeling even more trapped than before. Despite the ample room that she had—for someone’s insides—it was still too cramped for the flier. He needed air. He needed to see the sky. He needed solid ground.

Jerry muttered loudly to himself in a mixture of angry shouts and loud whispers. “Oh, don’t worry about it, we’ll help you right up!” he said. “Sure, you’re just a head, and your body is in danger of completely melting away, but it’s fine! We have this _magic thingamabob_ to keep you from dying! Oh, and also, that kid whose team arrested you is the one who made it!” Jerry panted a few more times. He was starting to tire himself out. Even standing felt like a chore. “Why would he do that? Well, obviously, because he cares! Something that you obviously don’t do, oh, no, that’s why you couldn’t become a Heart! You just didn’t care enough! It’s aaaall about having your HEART IN THE RIGHT PLACE—NNGHAAAAGH!”

Jerry slashed at Emily’s stomach lining, leaving a huge gash against the thick tissue. There was no blood. In a shaking, seething breath, Jerry watched the flesh squeeze itself together, mending the wound from edge to edge.

“I hate you,” Jerry finally hissed. He didn’t know who he was saying it to. He just kept repeating it to himself, walking in circles, until, finally, something caught his eye. He saw her. The stump of a Gardevoir was propped up against the far wall, only ten of his paces away. Her eyes were open and aware, and her breathing was soft. Her body showed the natural tension of one trying to stay quiet. A stiffness in her breathing, afraid to draw attention.

Jerry’s breathing slowed and he finally stopped pacing. He stopped mumbling. He happened to stop right next to the Stable Scarf. He still refused to pick it up. He hadn’t melted yet, so he wasn’t going to start now.

But now, a new problem presented itself. The Fire imp was awake. How much of that did she hear? Should he even care? He was going to be stuck with her for at least a night. Was she going to say anything? So far, she was just avoiding his eyes.

Jerry growled to himself. Even if Amia looked at him, he couldn’t look back. The catharsis of yelling and thrashing finally wearing off, the Aerodactyl only felt a creeping sense of shame. He saw Anam’s slimy, gooey head shaking in rejection toward his name on James’ list of candidates. He saw Owen’s eyes of pompous concern, looking down upon him when Jerry had no choice but to look at wherever the Charizard decided to position his bodiless head. He saw Star, glaring at him. He saw his mother’s empty eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Jerry jumped at the sound of someone else’s voice. He simply didn’t expect it. Even though Tanneth had been there not long ago, it felt like an eternity since he’d heard anything but his own thoughts. And _that’s_ what he first hears? He stared at Amia. Her eyes were downcast.

His jaw clenched, sharp teeth neatly fitting together. What right did she have to apologize to him? He wanted nothing to do with her, or with anybody in her family, of her clan. He didn’t care what Ghrelle said. The Fire Clan was real, and in the schism, Amia, or her ancestors, happened to be on the winning side.

But he wasn’t just going to ignore her. She was nothing but a head and torso, but those _eyes._ He couldn’t bear having those eyes upon him, and he’d do anything to get her to stop staring so silently.

Jerry found his voice. It was ragged from strain. “What for?”

At first, Amia didn’t reply. Her eyes gave little hints of movement, darting minute angles to the left and right, as if searching for an answer in the middle of an invisible book. “I’m just… sorry.”

Jerry stared at the stump of a Gardevoir and grumbled loudly to himself. He brought his wing to his head and clawed at his skull in frustration. “You can’t just say sorry for no reason. Doesn’t make sense. You sound just like your son.”

Amia smiled weakly. “Well… Alex and I _did_ raise him for centuries. I suppose he picked up a few of my habits.”

“Hmph.” Jerry stared at Amia for a bit longer. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t find it in him to yell now that Amia was able to hear—and now that he was again aware of her presence in the first place. He stared at the helpless thing in front of him. How easy would it be if he just attacked her then? She had no power. What sort of revenge could he take for his lineage of suffering?

A cold, icy void filled Jerry’s guts. This was why he never became a Heart. He pushed the thoughts away.

He swallowed, trying to get the roughness out of his throat. “How much of me did you hear?” he asked.

“Oh, not very much,” Amia said. “My hearing was coming back at around the time you started, but it was all very… muffled. And then my sight came back.”

“Rrff.” Jerry shifted where he stood, still not used to the horrible, squishy dampness under his talons. “And how are you feeling? Other than your missing limbs.” Jerry asked noncommittally.

“Better,” Amia said.

Jerry didn’t say anything in reply. He merely nodded and wandered to a portion of the wall that he deemed the driest-looking. He leaned against a portion of the wall and slid down. It was slick and had enough softness to behave as a pillow.

“Why did it have to be like this?” Jerry asked.

“Be like… what, dear?”

“You _know_ what,” Jerry said, pointing his wing out. “This. What is Emily? She isn’t a Lugia. She’s… some sort of hollow shell filled with air. Where’s the lungs? The bones? The gut? I’m starting to think this isn’t even a stomach. I don’t think she _has_ organs. I think it’s just a throat that leads to her lower body.”

“You might be right.” Amia nodded. This motion made her body lose its balance, and she fell to the side with a soft “Oof.” Amia craned her neck. “D-dear, I can’t quite get up. Could you…?”

Jerry didn’t move. Now she wanted him to help her up? She could help herself. She was practically a god. Since when did gods ask for help from lowly mortals like him? No. She didn’t deserve the help. She brought it upon herself.

“Jerry? Oh, dear, is my voice going? Jerry, I can’t quite… oh, dear.” Her body rolled until her face was flat on the ground. The Gardevoir’s chest was propped up by her red fin, and she turned her head to get air. “Jerry? Did you fall asleep, dear? It must be quite late. That’s okay. I’ll… be here.”

_If she wasn’t right outside, I’d think this whole mess was one of Mew’s divine pranks._ Jerry sighed and got up. He did so slowly, as if not to disrupt his spine, but he looked back with surprise. There wasn’t an ounce of pain.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. He wobbled closer and brought a wing under Amia’s side, pulling her up. He situated her against the back wall and sat next to her afterward, figuring she’d fall over a second time otherwise. If she was going to be _this_ helpless, then he had no choice but to help. Otherwise, she’d whine all night, he figured.

Jerry adjusted his back again. It really was gone. “So, this place really heals you.”

“It seems so,” Amia said. “I can already see and hear again. In a little while, I think my limbs will start coming back. Well, I certainly hope so, at least.”

“What happened back there?” Jerry asked. “It doesn’t look like you have burns. It isn’t like you incinerated your body. It’s just… _gone_.”

Amia glanced away. “I’m not sure myself,” she said. “I just… kept pushing. I felt my power was gone, but… that _monster_ was still there. I kept digging for more energy. Before I knew it, I…”

“I heard something the Ditto said,” the Aerodactyl recalled. “Something about how when people like you get strong enough, the aura and body become indistinguishable, or something. So, I guess I’m talking to an aura right now.”

“Mm,” Amia said, looking down at her partially-deteriorated dress. “If that’s the case, it’s a good thing Emily can even heal auras… at least a little.” She closed her eyes. “I hope Owen’s okay.”

“He’s fine,” Jerry said, rolling his eyes. “His ‘Dad’ ran off.” Jerry caught the flash of anger in Amia’s eyes. “H-hey, hey, didn’t you hear my tone? I put his title in little air quotes.”

Amia relaxed slightly, but her displeased expression didn’t fade.

“So, what, you guys were mates once, and then fell out?”

“No,” Amia said, sighing. “Eon… created Owen. “He created all four of them—Team Alloy. They were meant to be four pieces to a single being that could, well, defeat a lot of things. Guardians included.”

“Even the big ball of slime?”

Amia shook her head, nearly falling over a second time if it wasn’t for Jerry catching her. “Thank you—and I don’t know. I haven’t ever seen them completely fused before. And I’ve never seen Anam at full force, either. They’re two big unknowns.”

“Hmph.”

Another silence followed, and Jerry glanced to his right just in time to see a little nub forming at the top of Amia’s shoulder, twitching with movement. He wrinkled his snout and elected to not look at Amia for the rest of his stay until it grew back completely.

“I’m sure Anam will help you get back on your feet, Jerry. He’s a very good Pokémon.”

“Doesn’t matter if he’s good or bad. Can he solve the world’s problems?”

“Well—most of the world seems quite good, don’t you think?”

“Most doesn’t mean all,” Jerry said. “I still fell through his broad vision. The fact that outlaws exist is enough evidence for that.”

“Mm,” Amia said noncombatively.

“What?”

“Well…” Amia hesitated. “Short of controlling everybody, I don’t really see how you can stop outlaws from existing. Some people just don’t want to play by the rules.”

“Some people can’t afford to,” Jerry muttered.

“I—I know. I know. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Amia said.

“Do you, though?” Jerry asked. “Do you know? Seeing as you grew up under the Guardian side of the Fire Clan, I—and don’t you start about it being fake, it still existed!”

Amia was about to speak, but she stopped when he had raised his voice. “I’m guessing your family was not part of the ones that were _involved_ with the Fire Orb, then.”

“No,” Jerry said. “I guess not. To be honest, I’m not even sure why it all happened. They were all just _stories_. Yet it turns out they were true, huh?”

Amia hesitated. “I don’t know much about your history, either, Jerry. I don’t even know what the schism was all about. That was many Guardians before me.”

“Oh, really? And how long have you been Guardian?”

Amia nibbled on her lips. “A bit over five centuries,” she said.

Jerry stared. “What—”

“I was supposed to die a long time ago,” she said quickly. “But—some things came up, and I couldn’t.”

“Some things,” said Jerry. “You mean Owen. You raised him for five hundred years? No wonder he doesn’t act his age.”

“ _I_ don’t act my age,” Amia said. “I don’t think you _can_ act five hundred years old. Mystics… stagnate. We settle into certain mindsets. I’ve noticed that. But I suppose that isn’t a bad thing.”

“Otherwise, you’d go crazy. Maybe the brain just changes as you age. Seeing as you don’t age, you don’t change.” Jerry shrugged.

“How old are you, dear?” Amia asked.

“Thirty-two. Gonna turn thirty-three on the third moon of autumn.”

“Oh, it’s almost autumn, isn’t it?” Amia said.

“When’s your hatch day?” Jerry asked with an amused smirk.

Amia flinched and turned away, nearly falling again. Jerry resituated her again. “I don’t remember,” she said.

Jerry didn’t expect to feel a pit of guilt in his gut from that one. “Oh,” he said.

“You’d think I’d remember something that monumental, but I don’t,” she said. “I don’t even remember which season it was.”

Jerry said nothing. And in the steady silence of the chamber, the Aerodactyl felt his eyelids descend, slowly, without him realizing. There was a strange warmth about this place, and a soothing aura that flowed through the air. It must have been the healing that they talked about before, but now, in the calm, Jerry felt like it was wrapping around him like blankets.

Jerry jolted upright, catching himself before he fell asleep completely. Amia squeaked, falling onto her side again. “Oof—Jerry, dear, are you okay?” Amia asked, craning her neck to get a better look.

“I’m just fine,” he said.

Amia studied him.

He used his wings to pull her back upright, scrunching his snout at the sight of what appeared to be tiny fingers sprouting from her growing arm-stump. They moved and twitched tentatively.

“You look so tired, dear,” Amia said.

“Hmph, well, I haven’t slept in a while,” he said. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t had a good meal in me, either. I guess that energized pulse Star gave me did the trick because I’m not that hungry yet. Could do for something in the morning, though…”

Near the end, Jerry’s voice had faded into a disorganized mumble.

“Ohh, Jerry, get some sleep. We were wondering the same thing on the way here. Gahi was so tired he slammed into Owen and fused with him!” Amia laughed; Jerry preemptively steadied her body for the inevitable topple. “Thank you, dear.”

“I still don’t know why I got caught up in all this,” Jerry said. “I only went to that Swamp to avoid the authorities. Not like they’d ever go there. It was the perfect hiding spot, and after dealing with all the stories about the Void, I figured the Swamp wouldn’t be anything to worry about.”

“Mm, because of all the rumors?” asked Amia.

“Yeah.” Jerry said. “The Void claiming the souls of those who fall into it? All those strange sightings of dark creatures skittering around the south? The Swamp was nothing compared to that. So, I went there. The only story about that Swamp was that going too deep into the poison meant you’d never escape, so I just never did.”

“Until you followed us,” Amia pointed out.

“Nrgh. I got greedy,” Jerry said. “I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to take Owen down.”

Amia shifted uncomfortably. “Owen wasn’t even out there to arrest you. He was traveling, and he was attacked. Team Alloy was the one that…”

Jerry looked away.

“Why do you hate Owen so much?” Amia asked softly.

“I don’t… _hate_ him,” Jerry said.

Amia didn’t look convinced, but she also didn’t challenge him. “Oh, okay,” she said.

“Don’t give me that,” Jerry growled, rubbing his skull. “I know that tone.”

“I’m sorry,” Amia said.

“Don’t give me _that_ either! Argh, you guys are all the same. I don’t get it.” He leaned back angrily. His back squished against Emily’s flesh, and he reflexively jolted forward again.

“Perhaps that’s just the sort of personality Anam recruits,” Amia said quietly.

That brought out another pang of bitterness in the back of Jerry’s throat. He bit on his cheek, getting a phantom sensation of tasting iron, despite not biting hard enough to draw blood. He eased up and sighed.

It was faint, but Jerry heard quiet mumbles through the walls. They were talking amongst each other. It sounded like they were playing some sort of word game. Emily was too thick to hear the details, only the tone. And then, laughter.

Amia laughed with them. “It seems that they’re in good spirits,” she said.

“Mm,” Jerry said.

They listened to a few of the rounds, not hearing any of the words, just the noises. Manny was particularly boisterous. Every so often, they heard the gentle tone of Zena speaking quickly next, and then Owen at the same pace. Owen stumbled over his words, and that caused another round of laughter.

Jerry wrapped his wings around himself, finally relenting. He pressed against the fleshy walls and let exhaustion take over.

He finally found the words. “It’s his eyes.” He sighed.

Amia looked up. “I’m sorry?” she asked.

“Owen’s eyes,” he said. “They’re just like Anam’s. Have you noticed?”

Amia looked at Jerry, puzzled. Anam’s eyes were green like the slimy orbs that lined his body. Owen’s eyes were the natural blue of his Charizard line. Despite being a mutant, that was one feature that didn’t change. Anam’s were also a lot bigger.

Amia envisioned them for a while longer. Side by side, in her mind.

“They have light,” Jerry said. “This… this _brightness_ about them. He’s always… going into things with…” Jerry shook his head. “There’s just an energy to it. Like it’ll all be okay. Like he’ll figure it out. Even if he’s facing someone like _me,_ he still had that light in them. I’ve seen how dejected he was when I slashed his throat, and I still saw that light in his eyes. I don’t know what to call it.” He brought his wings forward, picking at a loose scale on the left wing’s rightmost claw. “I hate it.”

Amia turned her head toward Jerry, curiously staring into his eyes from the side. She wondered if he had that same light. What was the light? What did it look like? But Amia didn’t know what to look for. All she saw was that Jerry was tired.

“I’m sorry it bothers you so much,” Amia said.

“Don’t be,” Jerry said, grunting. “You guys are the ones who have it all together. My problem with Owen is just that. _My_ problem.” He looked up. “Once I’m healed, I’ll just go back to Kilo and finish my sentence. Then I can put all this behind me. I’ll let Star wipe my memories of all this. Then I can move on.”

Amia cleared her throat, but nothing followed.

Jerry glanced at Amia and caught a glimpse of her eyes. He saw it in her, too. She wanted to help him. There was a hopeful light in her eyes.

Jerry turned away and leaned against the wall. “I’m going to sleep. I need it.”

Amia nodded. “Okay, dear. Good night.”

Amia fell over from the nod. Jerry stirred slightly, but Amia quickly said it was okay, and he settled down. The Aerodactyl slept; the Gardevoir remained awake, staring pensively at the walls.

 

“What do you mean, _not healed_?!”

“B-buh, huh?” Gahi rolled over, blinking at the sun. “Aghh, what’s with that light…?” he muttered.

Jerry clutched at the scarf around his neck, but then looked at Gahi. “WAH!” the Aerodactyl shouted, pointing an accusatory wing at him. “What happened to your face?!”

“What d’you mean, my face?!” Gahi shouted in a hiss. “No uglier than yers, stone-breath!”

Jerry and Gahi both growled at one another like two ferals fighting over territory. Gahi eventually broke his stare to reach down and grab his goggles.

“Um, the red hoods,” Owen spoke up gently, “on Gahi’s face are actually removable.”

“N-not for normal Flygon, they aren’t!”

“Demitri can remove his tusks, too,” Owen recalled, tapping a claw on his chin. “I guess that’s just how Nevren designed us.”

“WHY?”

Owen and Gahi both shrugged. Owen did have to admit, though, seeing those coverings off of Gahi’s face made his otherwise entirely green, shiny head a bit bare. “Gahi, does everything look red when you put those on?” he asked.

“Eh?” Gahi asked. He placed the red coverings over his eyes; they _sank_ into his scales, and then made a gentle, organic _click_ once Gahi found the right position. Jerry looked ill. “Nah, maybe a little? But I think it only looks red on the outside. Y’wanna try’m on?” He pulled one off with a _pop_.

“ _Please_ stop doing that,” Jerry begged.

“I—I think we’re okay. Just keep them on, Gahi,” Owen said.

Gahi shrugged and _clicked_ it back on.

“Emily, dear,” Amia said—she was still green, which bothered Owen. “What do you mean, Jerry isn’t healed?”

“His aura’s still… bad,” Emily said.

“Not you, too,” Jerry growled.

“N-no, no! As in… he has… the bad stuff! Melty-melty if he takes the scarf off!”

“Wait,” Star spoke up. “You mean you couldn’t cure him?”

“I got eaten for _nothing_?” Jerry hissed.

Emily nibbled on her massive wing-fingers. “Sorry,” she said. “This never happened before. But… I can’t heal you!” The way Emily trembled suggested this was more distressing for the Lugia than it was for Jerry.

The outlaw paced in a small circle. “So, what, then? I’m just—doomed to melt?”

“We know that the Stable Scarf can keep you intact,” Star said. “As long as you keep that on, you won’t melt. In fact, I think it got enhanced a little by Emily. I think now if you wear it, it’ll actually _restore_ you back to normal if you take it off and melt. I’ll call it… a Stabilize Scarf!”

Jerry wondered why the Creator was so uncreative. “And if I lose it, then what?”

“Then you’ll melt.”

Jerry growled. “So, I have to stay by you guys so I can get healed. Is that it?”

“Well…” Star said. “I guess so, yeah. I don’t think any of these guys would want you out in the wild and in their conscience, huh?”

“Yeah, if Jerry isn’t cured, we can’t let him go,” Owen said. “He still has to pay his dues, but if he’ll melt if he accidentally loses the Scarf, then—n-no, we can’t.”

“So, you’re saying I’m stuck with you guys for good,” Jerry said.

“Until we can undo it,” Star said. “Ghrelle isn’t gonna. Maybe Anam can? He’s probably our strongest Mystic.”

“I will _not_ ask for his help,” Jerry said.

“Too bad,” Star said. She turned around. “I guess that’s everything. We have a personal Waypoint set for here, right?”

“We do,” Owen said.

“Alright. That’s all we need. Badges should be charged for now, so—let’s head home!”

Owen nodded and pulled out his Badge. Gahi did the same; between the two, it would be enough to warp everyone back.

Amia glanced at the cave, noticing that most of the glass had been cleared away. “I’m sorry about your home, Emily,” she said.

“Oh! It’s okay,” Emily said. “The others helped clean it out! And Zena washed away everything else, too!”

“Yeah, Zena was great!” Owen said. “Would’ve taken forever without her helping.”

Zena giggled. “Well, everyone was a great help,” she said, nudging Owen.

Owen stumbled forward when Zena nudged him. He glanced oddly at Zena, blushing. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked.

“Hm? How do you mean, Owen?”

“I dunno. Sometimes you get weird reactions.” He wasn’t familiar with serpentine body language, so whenever he sensed new reactions from Zena in particular, it always made him curious. “So, for future reference, what’re you feeling right now?”

Zena blinked.

Jerry rubbed his head. “How do you function?” he said. “She’s happy, nitwit.”

“B-but I know what she’s like when she’s happy! This was different!”

“Oh, Mew, just take us home.”

Star’s ear twitched.

“I _am_ happy, Owen,” Zena said with an apologetic smile. “Maybe what you’re feeling is me being comfortable, too.”

“Comfortable, huh? Okay. I’ll keep that in mind,” Owen said. “Comfortable.” He rubbed his arm nervously, looking away. “Comfortable…” Why would she be comfortable with _him_?

Jerry tugged noncommittally at the Scarf, wondering if it’d be a quick death.

“Let’s go!” Gahi said, clicking their Badge. Owen did the same after Emily stepped a safe distance away. In a flash, they all left, and the Lugia waved a massive arm goodbye. Tanneth did the same atop her shoulder.


	57. Fickle Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group to find Anam returns home, and Rhys and Elder finally deliberate about their current standing against the remaining Hunters, as well as against his own students. Meanwhile, Eon returns home.

“Mbbbbbfffffrrrr…” Anam slimed his way into his makeshift home in Hot Spot Cave, curling around his favorite rock until it was completely drenched in his green goo. “I missed sleep,” he said.

Rhys, doing his best to be cordial, averted his eyes and said, “I believe I will be resting with Elder in my home. So, unless I am needed elsewhere?”

He was atop Elder’s shell, legs crossed. Elder was only somewhat warm in what would have been the hot spots of his shell, and Rhys had little trouble riding on his back. Despite his typically reserved nature, nothing was going to stop the Lucario’s tail from wagging vigorously at the prospect of finally having a night together with Elder that wasn’t just in their telepathic connections.

“Ugh…” Demitri said. “That was such a long walk. We need to install a better Waypoint system for this place.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Nevren said. “Imagine if someone from the public sees us using a strange, exclusive Waypoint? We’d have to find a place in secret, and that, well, that would just get even more complicated. We can only use our Badges and their personal warp point.”

“Is Valle still here?” Willow asked. “I don’t think I saw him in a while!”

“I am still here.”

“Enet,” Step said, “perhaps it is appropriate to release your illusions. There is no longer a need.” Indeed, Step was back to her Icy self, gently tapping against her armor to make sure it was back to normal.

Enet nodded and clicked her claws together, concentrating on the surrounding area. Mispy’s tendrils returned to view. Relieved, she shook a few of them and wrapped a few on her back to envelop Demitri, squeezing him in an abominable hug. Demitri let out a little wheeze, nuzzling the tip of his snout against her back. He was careful not to cut her with his tusks.

Step scanned the area. “You have not restored Valle.”

“Hmph!” Enet turned her head, crossing her arms.

“The Shiftry shall return, yes?” Step said lowly. “We do not want to bump into him.”

“I request visibility.”

ADAM spun his head irritably. “Restore Valle.”

“No.”

ADAM buzzed. “ _Sudo_ restore Valle.”

Enet hissed. “No! He’s dumb!”

Just in time to evade the scuffle, Elder slipped into Rhys’ home. “Oh,” he said, “what a wonderful place you live in, Rhys. A bit,” he paused, “primitive, and a tad cluttered, but it’s very quaint, isn’t it?”

“I’ve grown quite accustomed to the simple nature,” Rhys said. “I certainly miss some of the luxuries that Nevren was able to produce, but what we have here is just fine.”

Elder chuckled.

Rhys glanced at Elder again. He was used to the general smokiness of Elder’s presence. It used to sting his nose, long ago. But now, after all this time away, the smell was nostalgic. He leaned forward, tracing at a familiar ridge pattern. “Being _physically_ nearby… nothing replaces it,” he said. “Meditation is never enough.”

“It truly isn’t,” Elder said.

“You don’t have to go back, do you?” Rhys asked. “Elder, I… I simply don’t see why you still want to follow Eon, after all he’s done. Is that truly what you want to do? He’s terrorizing the Guardians. Is he truly the one you’d rather have the Orbs? To have _control_ over the world?”

“I don’t,” Elder said. “I’m afraid that I… don’t know who I want to have that sort of power, Rhys. But I had nowhere to go. Eon is losing himself, Rhys. If I leave, I do not know if it will be for the greater good. If Eon grows too impatient, he may do something that he’ll regret. For all of us.”

Rhys gently pressed his paw against Elder’s shell. “Elder, if everybody within Hot Spot Cave gathered together to strike Eon, would we win? Surely you would know.”

Elder shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he said. “Eon isn’t the one we need to worry about any longer. It’s his army.”

“A-army, of course,” Rhys nodded. “B-but quite a bit of that army is with Trina, isn’t it? The Bug Guardian.”

Elder shook his head. “No. There is more.”

“Why would Eon want to make an _army_?” Rhys said, raising his voice slightly. “I still don’t understand it. He would never need so many—does he want to start another _war_?”

“Is that not what is already happening?” Elder asked. He huffed out a steady stream of smoke. “A war that neither dead god desired, fought in their name by the living. History repeats.” Elder sighed, lost in thought. “I miss Dialga…”

“That is _not_ going to happen again,” Rhys said firmly. His fur bristled, aura flames pulsing from his paw pads.

“Then you will need to surrender to Eon,” Elder replied. The silence that followed made Elder lower his head to avoid Rhys’ stunned eyes. “You have to either surrender, or Eon will strike. He’s ready, Rhys. Everything is falling into place. That’s what he keeps muttering to himself, and I—I simply don’t know what he means.”

“E-Elder,” the Lucario finally found his voice, “what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t want another war, Rhys,” Elder said. His body was stiff; Rhys recognized this as the Torkoal’s quiet terror. “Please. Just let it all end.”

“Is this what you tell all of the other Guardians?” Rhys whispered. “Did you come here just to tell us to surrender? You want _me_ to surrender? Are we just another one of your missions…?”

“I do,” Elder said. “If Eon strikes, it won’t just be our heads on the line. The whole world is going to get caught up in it again. It will be just like before, Rhys. But this time, instead of the Holy Dragon, it’s Eon. Do you really want that?”

“I never wanted it the first time,” Rhys growled. “And I certainly won’t let Eon rule, not after I’ve seen his methods of gaining that power. He’s worse than Arceus.”

“Then, you align with Star?” Elder asked.

Rhys winced. “I don’t know.”

“You sound quite a lot like Owen,” Elder said. “But you know, I think Owen has a personal favorite. He quite idolizes Anam, doesn’t he?”

“If you want my opinion, Anam isn’t any better. He’s afraid to take action.”

“I don’t blame him,” Elder said.

Rhys grunted. “If Anam had his way, we would all still be in the same strange stasis as before, all the Guardians suffering in isolation, while Eon slowly continues to build his army. We’d be in an even worse position! So, no,” Rhys said. “I wouldn’t want Anam to gain the Orbs either. It isn’t as if he _can_. He also Promised Arceus that he would not possess another Orb.”

“Most of the Guardians did, really,” Elder said. “What a clever approach, hm? Prevent the Guardians from usurping him by just blocking that option altogether, or risk giving that power directly to him anyway. Barky was always the clever one.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t refer to Arceus in that way,” Rhys murmured. “It seems… disrespectful.”

“Oh?” Elder asked. “A change of heart? You were not typically one to put much respect toward him, Rhys.”

Rhys ears went down slightly. “I suppose that’s true,” he said. “It merely seems… petty.”

“I see,” Elder said. The Torkoal frowned, but then craned his neck out of his shell to nuzzle Rhys on his thigh. “I’m sorry for all of this, Rhys. I wish I was stronger. I wish I had the heart to fight. But it simply isn’t in my nature. You know that, right from the beginning, in our first battle.” Elder saw his body tense. “I’m sorry. I won’t mention it. And I…” He hesitated. “And, regarding Eon, I…

Rhys let out a slow, steady sigh, looking at his right paw. It was trembling. It was unspoken, but Elder already knew that Rhys wasn’t going to surrender. And even if Elder didn’t want to leave, he had to, didn’t he? If he abandoned Eon, what would become of him? He could unleash the entire Synthetic army upon the world in frustration. He couldn’t stay here.

But was he even enough to keep Eon sane anymore? He already killed two Guardians. Perhaps it was already too late.

The weight Rhys provided on his side was a constant reminder of his presence.

He also couldn’t leave Rhys. The light in his eyes was brighter than ever when they first touched after so long. And now, he was going to leave him again? Perhaps that would be even _more_ devastating.

Elder craned his neck to look at Rhys again. He opened his beady little eyes, black and shining with red irises. They held their gazes with one another.

He couldn’t leave. Elder smiled slightly at Rhys, and finally settled his shell on the ground completely. Without a word, Elder eased Rhys’ spirit. And for a while, they did nothing together.

“Thank you,” Rhys said softly. After basking in their togetherness for a while longer, the Lucario climbed off of Elder and sat next to him. “How much time do we have?” he asked. “Will Eon give warning?”

“He will. Even if he decided to strike now, he would need weeks to mobilize.”

“That will do,” Rhys said.

Elder heaved another sigh, releasing a plume of smoke from his shell that enveloped Rhys. He closed his eyes reflexively, as he always did, and then wondered aloud, “I do hope this smoke isn’t damaging to my airways.”

“Well, you’re Mystic, so I suppose it will do little harm,” Elder said. “I apologize anyway. Perhaps I can lower it a tad?”

“There’s no need,” Rhys said.

“Oh, no, I should. It shouldn’t be too difficult. I may not be the greatest of Mystics, but I can surely achieve _that_. It isn’t as if Torkoal must emit their smog all the time, yes?”

Rhys didn’t protest, but he did absentmindedly run his claw against Elder’s shell. He glanced at the glowing portions of it, realizing just then how he had been avoiding the hot portions of Elder’s body with muscle memory alone, even if they weren’t particularly hot.

“Let’s rest, Rhys,” Elder said. “It has been far too long. We can converse about Eon when everybody else returns.”

“Hm. Of course.”

A while later, Rhys spotted Demitri and Mispy pass by their room, going through the halls and into their own on the opposite side. He couldn’t help but crack a smile. They were two pairs across the hall from each other. But his smile faltered when he saw their pensive faces.

“They’re thinking about it again,” Elder said quietly to Rhys. “Should we talk to them?”

Rhys didn’t have much of a choice. Mispy was glaring holes into his fur. He gave Elder a gentle pat, and the two crossed the hall and entered the synthetic Pokémon’s room. Unlike Rhys’ room that was cluttered with Pecha Berries and mementos of the past, Demitri and Mispy lived in a room that was minimally decorated. They had a bed of ample, soft leaves, which they slept together in. And nothing else. Hold on. Where was the bed?

Rhys tilted his head slightly, realizing that it was gone. Had it always been missing? Rhys briefly recalled the day Mispy and Demitri had fully evolved. Mispy had been uncharacteristically satiated that night.

Demitri and Mispy, therefore, slept in a room that was devoid of any sort of decoration or furniture. Upon coming to this realization, the first thing Rhys commented was, “I noticed how… empty your room seems. Perhaps we can dip into some of our Heart earnings for some decorations?”

Demitri and Mispy exchanged a glance, and then scanned the rocky walls.

“How come?” Demitri asked.

“Well, because it’s quite empty,” Rhys said. “Wouldn’t you like to have something to… look at? Something pleasing to the eye? …Such as a bed? I must ask, _where_ has your bed gone?”

Mispy evaded Rhys’ eyes. Despite the pair’s brief falter, the Lucario still didn’t get a proper response from the Haxorus and Meganium.

Rhys stood up. “Why, right here,” he said, pointing at the corner. “There could be a shelf, right here. I could load it with books. Or perhaps little figurines? There’s a store that sells lovely little figurines, Demitri. And Mispy, perhaps a book of recipes? You could choose which ones I can cook. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

An uncomfortable silence followed.

Mispy shifted her vines. “I guess,” she said.

“And—and right here,” Rhys said, following the wall until he was on the opposite side. “Perhaps a desk for you, Demitri, if—if there was perhaps a need for you to use a desk?”

The two mutants stared. They recognized that Rhys was just trying to distract them, or cheer them up, or give them some sense of normalcy. But nothing was going to wash away the fact that they were genuinely uninterested in any of those decorations. Their room was barren because they had no use for any of it. They never did. Rhys pushing them to be interested in something so trivial was just a reminder that their minds were incomplete.

“We just want to fight,” Demitri said. “None of this other stuff is interesting.” He slumped against Mispy, sinking halfway into her tapestry of vines. “Because that’s how we were designed.”

“N-nonsense,” Rhys said quickly. “Demitri, you love Mispy, do you not? That’s already one thing that isn’t related to fighting. And Mispy, don’t you enjoy food? Cuisine? Far from fighting.”

“I guess,” Mispy said again.

“Rhys,” Elder said, “I believe what they mean is, above all else, fighting is what appeals to them the most. More than their hobbies, more than their other interests, they love to fight.”

Neither protested.

“I—I see,” Rhys said. His jaw clenched in defeat, mentally cornered. “I see. I believe I understand. And I imagine you are not happy with this.”

“I don’t know,” Demitri said.

Rhys stood there at the end of the room. He looked at the corner again, envisioning the desk that he could install. But he couldn’t envision either of them using it. And so, his prospects faded away like the fleeting idea it was.

“I want to see Trina,” Mispy finally spoke up.

“Trina?” Rhys repeated. “But—we can’t do that yet. We told her that we would see her in the morning. We have to wait until tomorrow.”

“No,” Mispy said. Her body shifted. while her height did not change, her vines changed to a more organized, crawling stance. It was clear that she was ‘standing up’ to leave.

None of this felt right, Mispy thought. Rhys seemed like he was genuinely trying to help. Elder—whom they only had vague memories of at this point—seemed to mean just as well. But it all felt _sick_. They didn’t know a thing about themselves, did they? Mispy possessively wrapped a few vines around Demitri, squeezing him for comfort. The Haxorus responded by leaning back, closing his eyes. They just wanted to feel like their _normal_ was real. The only thing that felt real was Trina’s words. Someone they barely knew, yet someone who seemed to know them, and their kind, more than Rhys did.

“Mispy, I won’t allow you to go to Trina,” Rhys said. “It’s not a good time. She seems to be very particular about—”

“She’ll let us in.”

“Mispy,” Rhys said firmly, “you are staying _here_. Do not let her get to you.”

Rhys stood in front of the exit. Mispy, due to her size, required the entire passageway to go through and had to stop.

“Why do you want to go there, Mispy? For what purpose? What would this accomplish?” Rhys said.

“Move.”

“Mispy,” Rhys said, “what’s gotten into you? Please, listen to me.”

“Like I’m designed to?” Mispy asked.

Rhys flinched. “N-no. Not because of that. Listen to… reason. Mispy, please. We can talk about this, can’t we? It’s just one night, and we can go after that.”

“I’m not tired,” Mispy said, but her stare faltered. “I…”

Rhys hesitated, but then looked down at the mess of vines. “Demitri, what do you think? Are you really sure that seeing Trina would be a good idea? What if she tries to control you?”

Mispy’s vines wrapped protectively around Demitri, even when he was still buried somewhere inside.

“I…” Demitri said, his voice muffled. “I don’t know. It’s all so… I’m… I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“You feel lost,” Elder spoke up. “And you think Trina can guide you?”

Mispy winced, but then, suddenly, her body shifted slightly in color. Her usual, bright green became slightly yellowish. Her neck expanded significantly in width, looking more like a torso in shape, and the scales toughened, too. Two large axes sprouted on either side of her face—the upper half of Demitri’s upper body was attached to Mispy’s torso. The last to form were the arms. The first action of the behemoth with these arms was to wipe her eyes.

“Why am I like this?” she asked. “I… I hate it. I can’t go out anymore. I never will. I can never go to… Ludicolo Café. I can’t take jobs for the Association. I can’t even train at the dojo. Because… because I’m synthetic. I’m a mutant. The Hearts are supposed to _kill_ my kind! Or at least _relocate_ them for you or Nevren to just… send away.”

“That’s far from the truth,” Rhys said hastily. “That—that wouldn’t happen at all! If I came with you, and said you were an ally, surely we’d—”

“Is that why we had to hide?” she asked immediately. “I’m a _monster_. I had to look _normal_ with an illusion.”

“Mispy… Demitri…”

The fusion turned away. “Mimi,” she said.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Elder said with a smile.

“Mimi,” Rhys said gently, “I promise you, we will go to see Trina tomorrow. First thing in the morning.” He paused. “After breakfast.”

“Do you promise?” Mimi asked.

“I…” Rhys hesitated. “Yes. I promise.”

Mimi held out her hand, claws tense. “Do you Divine Promise?”

Rhys stared uneasily. “I can’t promise that,” he said. “There could be an interruption of some kind that could prevent us from going there that early. But I do promise, on my honor, Mimi. I will do everything I can so you can visit Trina.”

“I’ll be sure to pester him to do just that,” Elder said.

The Haxorus-Meganium fusion stared at Rhys. Deep, red eyes that Rhys matched with a firm stare. They held it without blinking.

“Fine,” Mimi said, breaking her stare. “Tomorrow.”

Rhys wondered if Mimi would be sleeping in that fused state. Based on how she was curling up, she was. The Haxorus upper half leaned forward, awkwardly trying to find a cozy position. That didn’t quite work. Next, she tried to turn to the side, and it seemed like she was getting somewhere closer to comfort. She brought a few vines forward to use as a blanket, bed, and pillow. While the thorns were sharp, her scales were tough, and she didn’t get poked by any of them. The rest of her body—the Meganium half—had the rest of the vines draped along the floor, spilling along most of the room.

“Well.” Rhys stood awkwardly. “Good night, Mimi.”

Mimi nodded, grabbing some of her vines to squeeze during the night. Elder stepped out of the room, went across the hall, and settled in Rhys’ bed next. “Come, Rhys,” he said. “They won’t leave. I trust them.”

Mimi squeezed her vines a little tighter, but nodded. “Good night,” she finally said.

She had planned to run away. But Elder said he trusted them. Now she couldn’t.

 

A seemingly endless hall of white, marble walls beckoned Eon inside. His heavy, scaly steps echoed. The flame at the end of his tail crackled. His wings were folded behind him, pressing firmly against his back. His fingers tensed, claws prodding at his palm.

“Back off, I said!” shouted a rumbling voice.

“Give it back! I totally called dibs!”

“Rrragh!”

A plume of smoke flooded the left corridor, dirtying Eon’s left side.

“Oops—sorry!”

Eon glanced to the right and saw a mutant Meganium wrapping around a thrashing Garchomp with oversized blades and sharp scales.

The Charizard continued walking down.

“What’s got him in a mood?” murmured the Meganium.

“Lemme go!”

“Then _give me_ Auntie’s cookie!”

“Mine!” Loud munching.

The Meganium gasped. “You JERK!” She slammed the Garchomp against the opposite wall. He broke loose and returned the favor with a heavy tackle. The scuffle continued and faded into echoes.

Eon spun on his feet and turned to the right, passing by a few more mutants. They all eyed Eon curiously. “Are you okay?” one asked.

“I’m just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

 _“Yes_.”

“If you’re starting to feel unstable, you should see Dad, okay?”

Eon stopped, staring at the mutant. It was a Lycanroc with a crimson, furry back and scaly, powerful limbs. His Charizard form melted away, shifting into an exact copy of the Lycanroc.

She gasped. “Oh, Mew! I’m sorry, Dad!”

“It’s just fine,” Eon said.

“Wow! You held onto that Charizard form for a long time! Are you getting better at your, um, _issue_?”

Eon winced. “Someone just happened to be in my thoughts,” he said. Even as he spoke, his left arm became orange, and half of a wing sprouted from his back.

“Oh, okay,” the mutant replied. “Um—okay, Dad.”

Eon nodded and continued on his way. It only took a few seconds for him to stumble, grow, and return to Owen’s shape. Eon made one last turn and saw a dead end with a large “1” written in black Bluk paint. Approaching the very end of the white wall, he stopped and muttered, “Ten.”

In less than a blink, the “1” in front of Eon turned into a “10.” He turned around and walked down a new hallway, this one decorated with little doodles on the wall.

“Rhouff!”

The bark was loud enough to shake Eon’s ribs. It was a Houndoom, but with a few odd modifications—one with pronounced, bone-like armor on its front half and jagged, sharp horns from either side of its head. His chest armor sported two tusks that hooked forward and out of its shoulders.

He skidded to a stop right in front of Eon, sitting down with a happy, panting face. He barked again.

“Lucas,” Eon greeted with a forced smile. “How are you feeling?” His body melted to a quadrupedal form, mimicking Lucas. This earned a few excited licks from the Houndoom. Eon chuckled quietly, “So, you’re handling that form well, are you? Good. Just remember to release it if you feel uneasy. Fetch Auntie Rim and Uncle Hecto, will you?”

“Rhouff!” He spun and bounded off.

Eon watched for a while, and then heaved a sigh. By the time his eyes were open again, he was on two legs, keeping his tail above the ground so it didn’t heat the tile.

Eon heard—and felt—a distant rumbling noise again, gradually increasing in volume. He recognized _that_ sound anywhere. Eon kept walking, even as the rolling got louder, and suddenly, stopped the intersection between this hallway and the next. Something large and purple rolled past him, much taller than he was. Eon leaned forward to watch the Scolipede slow down, stop, and then roll in reverse. Eon stepped back. It hopped in the hallway—thankfully, the ceilings were quite high—and unraveled in mid-air, landing on its four legs.

“Papa!” the Scolipede squealed.

“Hello, Lavender,” Eon greeted, forcing another smile. His body shifted and hardened into Lavender’s double.

“I thought I sensed you! How come you looked like a Charizard?”

“I just had it on my mind, Lavvie,” Eon said. “How have you been doing?”

“I’m doing great! I’m gonna get dinner!”

“It’s quite late, you know. Shouldn’t you be going to bed?”

“N-no, it’s not late!”

“Everyone should be going to bed pretty soon, you know. Go tell them. I still need to do some nighttime work.”

Lavender stared at Eon with wide, watery, pleading eyes.

“That won’t work on me, Lavender,” Eon said, quickly turning away. “It’s time for bed.”

Lavender didn’t stop.

Eon tried to step out of the way, but two Scolipede were just too bulky to squeeze past the same intersection—particularly when Lavender was strategically standing diagonally.

“Just one more hour,” Lavender begged. “I wanna train some more!”

Eon sighed. “Fine,” he said. “One more hour.”

“Yaay!” Lavender headbutted Eon in the neck, eliciting a wheeze. “I love you, Papa!” He curled up and rolled down the hall again. Just at that moment, Rim stepped into the white hall. Her wide eyes bulged even wider when she saw Lavender rolling right toward her, and she dove backwards, narrowly avoiding him.

Eon smiled at Rim when she approached; his form shrank and shrank until he was exactly her. “Hey, Rim,” he said.

“Mn…” Rim nodded, stepping closer. She gave him an affectionate nuzzle on the cheek. “How…?”

“I’m… I’ve been better,” Eon said, turning away. “Where’s Hecto?”

Rim shrugged. “Lucas…”

“Mm. Well, I need to talk to Nevren. And… I wanted you all to be there. I want to know how Elder is doing, anyway. If they took him in, then he’s probably with Rhys and the rest of Star’s minions.”

Rim nodded.

“Let’s just go to my room,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Rim frowned, but followed. “How did…?”

“Owen?” Eon asked.

Rim nodded.

Eon didn’t answer.

Rim gently bumped against her double while they walked.

They turned after the third doorway, stopping in front of it. Eon held his hand forward, and the metal door parted. The inside was a neatly decorated room. The corner held a large, king-sized bed with a mattress stuffed with cotton and covered by a large, black, smooth blanket. There was a desk with a small nightstand made of dark wood. Atop the desk was a simple, black headlamp. Opposite of the desk was a mahogany bookshelf sparsely lined with a few books on each level. The lowest shelf had what appeared to be a thick, often-opened book. The spine was worn to the point that one needed to be _told_ it used to be a hardcover.

“Oh,” Rim said, perking up. She dug through the small bag around her chest and pulled out a few rolled up papers, handing it to Eon.

“What’s this?” Eon asked, opening one. He instantly grew in size, going from an Espurr body to one of a Haxorus. “Oh,” he said, marveling at the detailed sketch of the very form he took. “Nate works quickly, doesn’t he? I never expected the Dark Guardian to be such an artist, but he really is talented.”

“Mm,” Rim said, giggling.

“He likes the kids, doesn’t he?” Eon asked. “New bodies for him to study and draw. I’m surprised that’s all we needed to do to convince him to come in the first place. That was good thinking on Nev’s part.”  He hesitated, looking at the pictures. He slowly went to the bookshelf and leaned down, grabbing the worn book. “Rim,” he said, “would you mind sorting through this and replacing the old drawings?”

Rim nodded. Her eyes glowed and, with a gentle Psychic wave, pulled the book from Eon’s claws and lowered it to the ground. It was tabbed alphabetically, and Rim first moved to the H tab and found Haxorus. She winced. She remembered drawing this one. The proportions were all off, and Eon struggled to transition into the species by using it as a reference. There was one time he actually _did_ turn into the sketch, almost exactly, and could barely move. The bone structure was all wrong, and his tail took up more than half his body. She was happy to replace it with a more accurate drawing.

“How’s Nate doing, anyway?” Eon asked. “I didn’t go to the eighth floor on the way here.”

“Fine,” Rim said. “Playing.”

“With the kids? That’s good. I was worried they’d scare each other.”

“Mm. No.”

Eon nodded, but then sat against the foot of his bed, sighing. Rim watched Eon, but then wobbled closer and hopped onto his chest.

“Wh—Rim!” Eon said. His form shrank and fur sprouted all over his scales. Rim pressed against his furry chest, pulling him as close as she could.

“It’s okay,” Rim said.

Eon flinched; their cheeks touched. But after a long pause, he relaxed, wrapping his tiny arms around her the best he could. Rim did the same. And in that quiet silence, Eon’s form slowly shifted again. Fur shrank and hardened to scales, and Rim went from embracing an Espurr to merely hanging on to the belly of a synthetic Charizard.

Rim rubbed her tiny nose against Eon.

“He said,” Eon started, “that… the other parents raised him longer. He doesn’t want to come back. All of that _time_ we spent together…” His claws shook. “I lost him. I… I lost him…!”

“No,” Rim said softly, nuzzling his chest. “It’s okay…”

Eon was shaking, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t want Rim to look at him, and she honored his wishes, but she still remained on top, embracing his chest as well as her tiny arms could.

Someone knocked on their door.

“That must be Hecto,” Eon choked. He took in a sharp breath, wiped his eyes, and sat up. “Rim, could you get him?”

“Mn.” The Espurr wobbled to the door and pressed her paw on it. The tenth of a Zygarde stepped in, nodding.

“How is he?” Eon asked.

“You will need to specify.”

“Who do you think?!” Eon snapped, digging a claw into his own chest.

“Hm. I do not know. I do not have a copy stationed in Emily’s island. You never considered it a priority, due to her… condition. However, with one of Nevren’s communicators, I was able to at least overhear their conversations. They are playing a word game while Amia and Jerry heal.”

Eon’s claws ground against one another.

“I would also recommend,” Hecto said, “giving up your power, and abandoning your—”

“Yes, yes, as you always say,” Eon growled. “Remember that I only allow you here to keep me updated, Minion of Star.”

“I am not her minion,” Hecto said. His expression did not change. “I am her mate.”

“She only keeps you around because you can survey the world like she can’t,” Eon said.

Hecto’s right paw twitched. Nothing else moved.

Rim shifted uncomfortably.

“Why do you want me here?” Hecto asked. “You never allow me to the tenth floor. Nate’s spirits torment me on the eighth. They do not understand personal space. I have no doubts that some of the southern rumors of the Abyss are true.”

“Have they said anything about surrendering?” Eon asked.

“The notion was dismissed silently,” Hecto said. “There was not any discussion on the matter.”

“Of course there wasn’t,” Eon growled. “That will be all, Hecto. Thank you.”

Hecto remained where he stood.

“I said _thank you_ ,” Eon said.

“I am not Star’s minion.”

“ _Fine,_ you’re her happy-go-lucky toy-mate, is that better?”

Hecto stared for a while, but then turned around, leaving. Once the door closed—and Rim confirmed that his aura was leaving for the warp to higher floors—Eon walked toward his desk and pulled open a drawer. He grabbed a single badge, slightly different from the communicators that Nevren had given Star’s group. He pressed on the button and waited.

“Hello?” Nevren said. “Eon, this isn’t the best time.”

“Call it off.”

“What?”

“Call it off.”

Nevren was quiet. “Eon, now is truly not a good time. I’m in Hot Spot Cave. Everybody is around. I was barely able to get time to myself.”

“Did you already perform Plan D?”

“Yes. I can’t stop it now.”

“Then don’t move any further. Just… how far have you gone?”

“Anam has been rewritten, but he can break free at any time if I’m not careful. It’s a very _perilous_ position, Eon. You know I can’t hold it for very long.”

“Well—how long can you hold him there?”

“Why must I wait? Owen and the others will be here soon. I can—”

“Do _not_ ,” Eon said. “That is an order.”

“And when Anam ultimately breaks loose and kills me?” Nevren asked, his tone never changing.

“How—how much time do you have?”

“Well, if I’m _very_ diligent, I imagine I can make this last indefinitely. But a more realistic scenario is that I will ultimately make a mistake after a few weeks.”

“Then—then wait until… wait until then,” Eon said.

“Really, just wait?” Nevren asked. “That’s your plan?”

“I’ll think of something,” Eon said.

“Is this about Owen, again?” Nevren asked. “Honestly, Eon, if you miss him that much, I could easily make another. And this time, I will make it so he does not care that he is a replacement.”

“You _know_ that’s not the same thing,” Eon said.

“What would be the difference? Some fabricated memories here, the same flaws and emotions there, give him a name, and you have Owen. I’ll even make the other three to complete the—”

“IT’S NOT THE SAME,” Eon roared. “I WANT _THEM_ BACK!” Eon slammed the communicator on the desk, resulting in the table, and then the concrete beneath it, to shatter. The communicator lay in the rubble, still functional. “If you do _anything_ to them, Nevren, I’ll… I’ll kill you. And no amount of luck from that charm of yours is going to stop me.”

Eon tremored. The Charizard glared at the rubble, focusing on the communicator as if Nevren would somehow be able to see his glare. He waited for a reply.

“Very well,” Nevren said. “I will give you time to win Owen back. But do not blame me if my hand is forced. I will, however, give it an honest effort. Are we in agreement?”

It took a long while for Eon to reply. “Fine.”

The communication ended with a light _tap_. Rim stared at Eon for a while longer. She had never seen him last in the same form, without looking at it, for so long. And in Eon’s eyes, Rim saw the same determined light that Owen had.

But there was no way Owen was going to happily see Eon again at this rate, and _especially_ not if Nevren was going to have to unleash Anam before Plan D came falling apart. There had to be some way to… ah!

“Um…” she said.

Eon glanced at her.

“I have… an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, this chapter and the next chapter have been incredibly tricky to write. And while I have them written, it caused my chapter buffer has diminished significantly. I like to look at old chapters with at least a few weeks of leeway, so I'm going to slow down my upload rate a bit so I can build it back up. The next chapter will drop in two weeks, rather than one. Chapter 52 - "Reunion" - will arrive on 11/11! See you then.


	58. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finally comes back together in Hot Spot Cave.

“We’re back!” Owen called.

“Owen’s back!” Willow cheered, skittering across the caverns to hop onto Owen’s head, using his lowered hand as a boost. By now it almost became a small routine to do this if Owen saw the Joltik running toward him. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“Uhhh… I mean, could’ve gone better,” Owen said. “Jerry couldn’t get healed. Emily’s power couldn’t get rid of the melting property, but she _was_ able to enhance his Stable Scarf. Now it’s a Stabilize Scarf. Star made up the name again.”

“What’s the difference?” Willow asked.

“Well, my version kept Jerry the way he was when he puts it on,” Owen said. “Emily’s version brings him back to _normal_ if he accidentally takes it off for a little while.”

“Yeah, that’s the property I felt from it,” Star confirmed. The transparent Mew floated around Manny. “How’re you holding up, Jerry?”

“Never better,” the Aerodactyl growled. “What do you think? I’m still stuck with you lunatics. I was starting to warm up to the idea of indentured service again compared to this—”

“What Jerry means is, he’s glad that he can hang out with us for a lot longer,” Star said.

Jerry glared.

“Until we get strong enough to counter Ghrelle’s Mystic power, that’s how it has to be,” Star went on. “Isn’t that right, Jerry? I guess we’ll have to find a way for you to be useful until then.”

“Oh, I’ll _show_ you useful,” Jerry said, beating his wings.

“Oh, oh! I know!” Anam’s voice sang from his building to their left. The Goodra waddled outside with his bag lodged partway into his chest. “Let’s make him a Provisionary Heart!”

Jerry froze.

Anam dug through his chest, as if searching around for something. Not finding it there, he dug into his thighs. “Ah!” He pulled out a small, gold emblem, a bit different than the one thousand full-fledged Heart Badges in circulation, and handed it to Jerry.

He stared at it.

“What’s wrong?” Anam asked. “It’s not as strong as normal Badges, but it’ll help you! They’re only good for warping yourself out of trouble, and it only goes to Kilo Village, but if you go with a fellow Heart that has a real Badge, you’ll be able to go on assignments really easily!”

Anam held his hands out again, but his horn-feelers twitched nervously. He pushed his arms a bit closer until the Provisionary Badge was mere inches away from Jerry’s face.

“Why?” Jerry said.

“Why?” Anam repeated. “W-well… because!” He pushed the Badge even closer.

If only to get him away, Jerry reached out and grabbed it, wincing at the slime that squished between it and his claws. “Thanks,” he hissed.

Anam nodded, but then spun around, quick to walk back into his home to relax. Jerry didn’t need to have the Goodra’s unnatural perception to know that he was just trying to avoid some sort of confrontation. What kind of leader was he, barely able to handle someone that didn’t agree with him? Pathetic.

Jerry shuffled off to claim a home for himself, figuring that, as he had been informed, most of the inhabitants were dead. They wouldn’t need a home.

With Jerry gone, and after a long day and night of activity, there was an unspoken agreement among the Hot Spot inhabitants to disband to relax for a while. For Owen, that meant giving Zena a little glance and jerking his head, offering for her to follow him to his parents’ place. The Milotic gladly followed, wondering if they were going to play another game of marbles.

“Mew, that was awkward,” Owen mumbled. Zena nodded, slithering diagonally behind him so her head was level to his.

“Can you stop doing that?” Star mumbled, rubbing her ears. Following as one of Manny’s spirits—and with Manny a bit further away, now—she was barely tangible.

“Huh? What?” Owen asked.

“Using my name when you say something. Y’mind not?”

“Oh—sorry. Is that… sacrilegious or something?” Owen asked. “Sorry. Before all this Guardian stuff happened, I didn’t exactly read the Book of Mew _or_ the Book of Arceus, so… you know.”

“You didn’t complain much about it before,” Zena said. “Is it disrespectful?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just you guys have been doing it a lot more often lately, and I figure I’m gonna have to deal with it a lot longer, so, yeah. Don’t do it as much.”

“How come? Not—not to offend or anything, but, is it a tradition, or respect, or…?”

“You really think I care about stuff like that?” Star said. “No. Any time someone refers to me by name like that, I hear them. In my head. You’re supposed to call me for a prayer, yeah? And then I hear it. But if you make a reference to me in that way, while I’m _here_ , I kinda hear it double-time. With my ears _and_ my spirit. And there’s a weird delay, so it’s like you’ve got a super-echo. Messes with my brain.”

“Oh,” Owen winced. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. Now y’do. I’m gonna go and tell the others now, because I think everyone’s been doing that. Are you fine, Owen?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m okay,” Owen said.

“Are you _sure_?” Star said. “Eon didn’t get to you, did he?”

Owen hesitated for a split-second too long. “He didn’t.” He eyed her briefly, but then looked away.

Star crossed her arms.

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Owen said. “I already told him I’m not interested. Mom and Dad raised me for centuries! I’m not gonna throw that all away just to go back with my _first_ Dad.” He stared at the ground. That wasn’t what bothered him. No, it did—but what bothered him more was how Eon spoke of Star. He already had shaky doubts about the Mew, and now this?

Star sighed. “Good, Owen. Eon’s… twisted. I’m sorry, but he’s lost it. He’s not the same person you used to know. Okay?”

Owen’s claws scratched against his arm’s scales.

Star glanced at Zena. The Milotic replied with a nod. Star replied in turn, and then floated back to the main square.

“Star’s going to speak with everyone else,” Zena said. “Owen, would you like to, perhaps… read a book together?”

“Oh,” Owen said, nodding. “That sounds fine.”

Zena brightened, slithering after him. “What will we be reading today, Owen?” she asked.

“Uhh, what did we read before?” he asked nervously.

“You don’t remember?” Zena asked.

“Sorry,” Owen said. “I met you before my last reset, right? Everything is… kinda scrambled still. I’m sorting through it.”

They entered his parents’ home. Amia wasn’t present. Owen headed to his room and stepped over his bed, digging through an alcove in the back, which held his stash of books in their latest editions. All in the Rawst paper format, of course.

Zena gulped, shrinking. “Of course. I understand. Well, we read a book about Scarves, and other Dungeon equipment. Do you remember that?”

“A little,” Owen said, rubbing his left horn thoughtfully. “Mrrgh, I can barely remember getting the Grass Orb, Zena. Did I meet you before or after that?” He looked at her.

“Well, after. You ran away as a Charmeleon, and you went into my caverns to talk to someone you knew was in a similar situation. A Guardian that was sealed away. You were upset that your parents and your idols lied to you.” The Milotic slithered closer, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at what book the Charizard was choosing. She was careful to avoid the flame at the end of his tail.

“Feels like a really long time ago,” Owen said. “A lifetime ago. Literally. It’s like… every time I got reset, it’s just a new life that I live. Reincarnated, with that life and all its memories just… blended up. It feels… distant. Not… me, _now_.”

Zena blinked. “So, you don’t remember talking to me for the first time? Meeting me?”

Owen shook his head, but stopped midway. “Well, actually,” he amended, “I kinda do. I remember… yeah. Yeah, I kinda remember. I remember I saw… something I really liked. And I felt really bad, too. I remember those _feelings_ , you know? And then, remember when you first moved in? We made that little lake for you in your place, and…” Owen rubbed his head. “I think I remember that.”

“Did you enjoy that?” Zena asked. “Did you enjoy being around me?”

“Oh, totally,” Owen nodded, pulling out a thick book from the alcove near his bed. _Survival Guide: Equipment Synergy for Maximum Effectiveness_ , _Fifth Edition_. “I love when we talk.”

Zena immediately perked up. “You do?”

“Yeah.” He glanced back, tilting his head. “Hey, your muscles did that thing again. So, you’re happy? I’m really sorry I keep asking, uh, you know. I’m still learning the serpentine body. I hope I wasn’t like this before I reset, too.”

“Of course I’m happy, Owen,” Zena said, giggling. “So, you love being with me?”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “You’re a nice friend. Everyone is. I love talking to all—uh, most of the folks here.” Owen blinked, looking back. “Zena? Your muscles got weird again.”

“Oh, I—” Zena gulped. “It must be your imagination.”

“Seemed more like your muscles did the exact opposite thing.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Zena said. “Please, let’s read.”

Owen stared uneasily. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Do you truly not remember anything?” Zena asked. “Anything at all from the last time you reset? What about after that? When you fully evolved, and remembered your first life?”

“Well, I’m sure I remember _some_ of that,” Owen said, nodding. “After I fused with Gahi for the first time, though, I think I got scrambled again. But only halfway. So, all that’s kinda blurry, too.” Owen shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry. At this point, I’m just taking things one moment at a time. It’s hard to think back to specific times. I just have… flashes.” He nodded. “I guess I can’t remember you too clearly, ha…. But it’s probably fine, right? We can still do stuff now!”

“Why don’t we just get to reading?” Zena said.

“Um—sure, Zena, but can we talk for a second?” Owen asked.

“No, reading is just fine. Reading with you is all I—”

“Hey, Owen?” Demitri called.

Owen turned back to see the mutant Haxorus and behemoth Meganium at the entryway. Gahi was standing behind them both, trying to lean over their hulking forms in annoyance. His slimmer body allowed him to weave between them, but not much further.

“We’re going to Trina’s,” Demitri continued. “Want to come?”

“Trina’s? The Bug Guardian? The, uh, what was she again?”

“Serperior. We want to see her,” Demitri said.

“Yeah, I dunno, they’re really bent on seeing her fer some reason,” Gahi said. “So, y’coming?”

“Owen and I were going to be reading a book together,” Zena said. “Do you need him with you? Why don’t you take Rhys?”

Demitri and Mispy winced slightly. “He’s coming anyway,” the Haxorus said.

“He insisted,” the Meganium clarified.

“Then you’ll be fine. Owen, would you like to read?”

Owen glanced at Zena. “I mean, yeah, I was kinda looking forward to reading,” he admitted. “But Trina has a bunch of mutants, too, just like us. Maybe we can win her over if we go?”

Mispy looked at Zena curiously, but then glanced at Demitri. Gahi, who had lost interest in the conversation, wandered into the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards for no reason. He didn’t even look inside any of the ones he opened.

Owen sighed, shutting the book. “I guess I should go,” he said.

“Wait,” Zena said. “Could I come, too?”

“You?” Owen said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Water Guardian, Bug Guardian, but a Serperior… that’s sorta tricky. I think it’d be better if we brought Mom instead. Fire Guard—oh, no, but Psychic, versus Bug…” He sighed. “Okay, let’s rethink that. Valle? No, he’s still kinda weak. Anam? No, he’ll probably rub Trina the wrong way. She’s regal, right?”

“Kinda,” Demitri said. “Do you want us to go looking around and see what everyone says?”

“Are we even fighting?” Mispy pointed out.

“Oh, yeah,” Demitri said. “I guess that’s true.”

“Well,” Zena said, “if you’re planning, then I suppose I’ll just go for the time being.” She nodded. “Excuse me.” She attempted to slither past Mispy, but she was just too large. She had to instead struggle over her vines, tumbling over once she got past most of her. Mispy tried to slide out of the way, but Amia’s home, despite being equipped for Owen’s father’s Magmortar body, was still not large enough to accommodate Mispy’s bulk.

Once Zena finally escaped, she headed straight for her home, passing by the Gardevoir and Magmortar in question.

“Oh—what a party!” Amia said.

Demitri and Mispy looked back and jumped. “A-Amia? New look?” the Haxorus said, addressing her green appearance.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s temporary. I’ll be back to my usual blue soon,” Amia said. “I just need to recover a little more. I think my spirit is a bit on the weak side right now. Star told me to conserve my energy. Er, but more importantly, is Zena okay?”

Owen perked up. “What’s wrong with her? I _know_ something’s wrong, but I can’t figure out what.”

Mispy stared at Owen. Her wide eyes and seconds of stillness suggested she needed to make sure that he was being serious. “Really?” she asked.

“Yes!” Owen said. “Look, I’m really good at body language, just not _her_ body language. When was the last time I’ve been with someone without arms or legs, you know? …Mispy, what, uh, what’s with the…?”

Mispy’s vines twitched irritably.

Demitri spoke up, “I actually kinda thought you two had some tension or something going on. Like maybe you were arguing?”

“Arguing? No! Why would we be arguing? We were just about to read a book together, but then this stuff came up.”

“She asked to come with you,” Demitri said.

“Yeah, but I dunno if that would’ve been the best idea, y’know?”

“Why?” Mispy asked.

“Well, Serperior is Grass, and she’s the Water Guardian. It doesn’t really work out all that well, I think.”

“Oh, Owen, honey,” Amia said.

Alex mumbled something to Amia and started to walk away, but Amia held him on the shoulder and shook her head. She yelped at the heat of the fire on his body, quickly waving her hand.

Alex jumped. “A-are you okay?” he said.

“Y-yes, I’m fine, dear. I’m sorry. Goodness, I forgot what it’s like to feel burned.”

“Eh? What’s wrong?” Gahi asked.

Demitri rubbed the back of his head. “You really don’t notice it, Owen?” he asked. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Did your head get scrambled that badly?”

“I—I’m smart,” Owen said. “And I’m perceptive.”

Mispy brought a vine forward, prodding his chest angrily. “Body-perceptive,” she said, and then ran a vine to the lethally-sized nonfiction in his hand. “Book-smart.”

Owen blinked. “And combat-smart!”

“And nothing else,” Mispy said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Mispy snorted, but then jerked her head at Demitri. He nodded and backed out of the home. Mispy suddenly reached out with her vines, wrapping around Owen’s body.

“Uh—”

She tugged Owen forward and turned around, sliding out of the home. Zena’s abode was diagonal to Owen’s, just across one of the cavern halls. In only thirty seconds, with Owen trying to get into a better position along the way, resigned to his fate, they stopped in front of the Milotic’s little alcove. She tossed the Charizard inside and turned around, grumbling something to Demitri, who nodded. Gahi listened, too, looking surprised.

Zena was staring into her lake when Owen had arrived. It was completely dark in her home, so the light that Owen’s tail introduced was enough to get her attention even before Mispy tossed him inside.

“Uff—” Owen grunted, rubbing his head. “Rude!” he shouted at Mispy. But then he turned ahead and looked at Zena. She had turned around, coiled tightly around herself.

“Hey—I’m sorry,” he said.

“Sorry?” Zena said. She brought one of her ribbons to her face to scratch at an itch below her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I think I said something that offended you,” he said. “Look, there’s—there’s something wrong with my head, you know that, right? Between being designed as a weapon, and how everything beyond a few weeks ago is a total fog, except for my very first life, and then just in general me relying too much on my Awareness, I think I’m interpreting what I’m reading off of you wrong. So, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. If I offended you with something anti-Milotic, or anything.”

Zena stared in silence. Her eyes were wide, but her jaw was tense.

“See,” Owen said. “I don’t know what that means. I just don’t. I never read—or, I don’t remember reading—any books about how Milotic or other Pokémon like you react on a muscular level to things. I don’t know if I’m making you madder or if I’m helping. Maybe Mispy’s right. I’m designed to be good at Awareness and combat, and I’ve got the smarts from the academic side, but I guess I just—”

“Owen,” Zena finally said.

“Y-yes!” Owen nodded.

“You don’t know how I feel?” she said. “You can read my body, but you don’t know what it’s saying?”

“Pretty much,” Owen said. He drooped his wings. “Sorry. I know it sounds really discriminatory and stuff, but I feel like I’m looking at you in the dark.”

“I see,” Zena said, nodding. She took a slow breath. Her stance returned to its more dignified, steady gaze. “Then I just have to tell you. Is that it?”

“Until I get better. I—I promise, I’ll get better!”

Zena nodded. “I’m sure you will, Owen.”

“Oh, Mew, just _kiss_ already!” Gahi groaned.

“Hey!” Star yelled from across the cave.

Zena tensed, as did Owen. “W-wait, you…” he said, “you… _like_ me? As in—”

“Owen,” the Milotic said. “When you come back from Trina’s home, I would… like to have dinner with you. The two of us.”

This time, Gahi was silent—as was, it seemed, the rest of the cave. It didn’t last; Enet and Willow got into some sort of spat, screeching while tossing Moonblasts and Thunderbolts at one another.

Tuning it out, the Charizard found his voice. “You…?” Owen said. “Me? _Me?_ ”

“Of _course_ you, Owen!” Zena said. “What else would it be?!”

“But— _why_? Wait. _That’s_ what you’ve been feeling?” Owen said. “I thought you figured I was a nutcase! I mean, with the whole thing with me killing Klent, and the crazy battle-mode headspace—I still get chest pains if I don’t get a good fight in, I—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Zena said. “That’s your instincts, but they aren’t _you_. They aren’t the Owen I know…” she shook her head. “That was the one that I saw in my lake. The one who talked to me, and… who _cared_ about me. Who spent all that time you could’ve spent with anyone else! You…” Zena looked at him again, and then laughed, staring at the flame on his tail. “Owen! You—you lit up my life!”

The Charizard stood still. His flame—the only source of light in Zena’s dark home—flickered into a bright yellow. Then, it settled back to its cooler orange.

The memories that followed were vague, but powerful. Sitting at the lake. Scrambling back and seeing her for the first time. The fear she felt. The loneliness. And then, the desperation to run away. Seeing Rhys for the first time—the one who had tried to kill her. The betrayal upon hearing Star’s revelations, and her involvement with the Hunters. The reason for all that suffering.

Owen didn’t know what to do with his arms. He ended up fiddling with his claws, as he always did. “I didn’t think you’d think of me that way,” he admitted. “I mean, look at me. I—”

“Enough, Owen. H-how do you feel about me?”

The Charizard gulped. “W-well,” he said, fidgeting. “I… that, uh, I…”

Zena waited, holding her breath. “Or… or are you more interested in Gahi?”

Owen blinked. “Uh—wait, what? Where’s that coming from?”

“Well,” Zena looked away. “Demitri and Mispy are together. And you and Gahi… _fused_ together, and you seemed pretty happy about it. I was just wondering if…”

“Oh, no, no, nothing like that,” Owen said. “I mean—Gahi’s nice, but… that’s all. Can’t really imagine having a romantic dinner with him without it blowing up in our faces.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed ter mean?” Gahi snorted.

Zena hesitantly asked, “So, if Gahi is just a friend, then by comparison, I…?”

The Charizard poked a claw from each hand together. “I always… liked talking with you, and reading stuff, and training, and all that. But, I still feel like we barely know each other.”

“I feel like I know you quite well,” Zena said.

“You don’t have broken memories,” Owen replied. “I… I’m sorry, Zena. I don’t remember a lot of it. I don’t remember a lot of… anything. And if I can’t even do _that_ …!”

Owen was starting to understand how a serpent’s body reacted to despair.

“But,” he said, “I _want_ to know you more. I want to… recover my memories. Because I know they’re there. And it’s… ugh.” Owen rubbed his head. “I just _hate_ that I can’t remember what you’re remembering right now! So… so if you can deal with that, then…”

“Then… then it’s a yes?”

“To—”

“To dinner. It—it doesn’t have to be anything _grand_ , just—just so we can talk. This way, you—”

“Yes.”

Zena let out a sound that was a mixture of a sigh and a laugh, and Owen learned what it meant for a Milotic to feel an emotion that he couldn’t find the word for. “I’ll hold you to it,” she said with a disarmed smile. But then, Zena cleared her throat and straightened her upper body. “Well,” she said. “You should get going, hm? To Trina’s.”

“Yeah,” Owen nodded. “…Hey, wait a second.” He looked Zena over. “You!”

“A-ah?”

“You’d be perfect for Trina! You’re—all dignified, at least, that’s how you present yourself, right?”

“Well—is that not how a Milotic should be? Graceful?”

“I mean, I guess. I prefer when you’re just relaxed. But this would be great for Trina!”

Zena blushed. “Oh, I’m—wait, so you’d like me to come with you?”

“Yeah! Definitely. I should’ve thought about it earlier. It’ll be Team Alloy, and then you, and I guess Rhys. Heh.” Owen shook his head. “Aside from Mom, it’d be like right before we went off to get Willow, Valle, and ADAM, huh?”

Zena giggled. “Yes. But we should be careful. From what Rhys and the others have said, Trina sounds quite… mm. I don’t know the word.”

“She sounds like someone you need to show respect, or she’ll make you show it,” Owen said. “Okay. Let’s see if anybody else is interested.”

They quickly gathered everyone up. Owen pressed on why Demitri and Mispy were so eager to leave, but all he got in reply was that they were curious about Ax and Ani—their doppelgangers. That got Owen curious about Har, presumably a fellow Charizard. Gahi seemed indifferent about meeting Lygo, his own counterpart, but for one reason or another, the Flygon stuck around. It wasn’t every day they got to go as the full Team Alloy, after all.

“Don’t say that,” Demitri mumbled to Owen.

“What? Team Alloy? But it’s so cool! It—”

“Nevren made it up because we’re an _alloy_ ,” Demitri said.

Owen winced, but decided to drop the subject. “Okay.”

Most of the others seemed uninterested in meeting Trina. In particular, when they asked Manny if he wished to join them, he only laughed. For a while. He didn’t stop. Instead, he kept practicing summoning someone that he called his strongest spirit.

When asking Azu, who had been standing nearby, who that was, he only replied, “Ha HA! While I am among the strongest spirits in the real world, our Guardian has other spirits he can only _dream_ to make tangible! The greatest spirit, Master Yen, has yet to arrive!”

All the while, Manny kept laughing quietly to the notion of seeing Trina again. They left him alone.

It ended up being their team of seven—the Alloy, Rhys with Elder, and Zena. With them gathered in the center of Hot Spot, Rhys used his Badge to warp them to Trina’s abode, having set a custom waypoint there the day before. In an instant, they went from the cooling corridors of Hot Spot into the white, elaborate caverns of Trina’s web-made labyrinth.

Owen needed a moment to adjust to the new environment, blinking at the dim, white web all over. He shuffled his weight, feeling the silk under his feet.

“So,” Trina said, her voice deep and soothing. “You’ve come, right on time, as promised.”

“W-wow,” Owen said, marveling at the great, silken chamber. He tapped into his Awareness, taking full advantage of how much he could extend his senses into the main room. He felt the thick layer of web beneath and around him. Trina, the Serperior, was behind them, by the opposite side of the wall.

What unnerved Owen was the many cocoons that lined the walls. In every single one, he felt the presence of a body, wrapped up and sealed away. Some were struggling. Others were resting peacefully. A few were awake and listening. Owen shivered. Most of them felt like they weren’t normal Pokémon. Synthetics, like him? Was this their fate?

He retreated his awareness back into his body, sighing. “This place is creepy,” he mumbled, turning around to address Trina with the others. “Oh.”

He was so overwhelmed by the many bodies sealed in cocoons that he hadn’t noticed the ones that stood beside the Bug Guardian. It was like staring into a mirror.

Har, Lygo, Ax, and Ani all stood in front of their queen, in the exact same formation as Owen, Gahi, Demitri, and Mispy.

“I thought it would only be appropriate to introduce you to one another,” Trina said.

Owen looked at Har. He was, scale for scale, a complete replica of him. The Grass Guardian gulped, raising a hand to wave.

Har smirked in reply, giving a noncommittal wave at Owen in return. “Hey,” he greeted.

He sounded exactly like Owen.

“Hey…” Owen said. “Um… Har, right?”

“Yep.” He nodded, flaring his wings boastfully. “Nice to meet you, Prototype.”


	59. Similarly Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Alloy has a chat with Team Alloy 2.0 and their leader. In the process, they learn something new about their inherent strength.

Being called a _prototype_ was new. Owen knew it was true, but there was something about actually hearing the word spoken by what was _literally_ an improved version of himself that hurt more than he had expected.

“Har, that was very rude,” Trina said. Her eyes were closed and her head was up. “You will apologize.”

Har crossed his arms. “I only said the truth. I still owe him a lot.”

“Can’t you see how offended he looks?” Trina asked, motioning with a vine toward Owen.

In response, the prototype Charizard flinched. “I’m not offended.”

“You _are_ a bad liar,” Trina said. “That’s ironic, coming from someone meant to be aware of all forms of body language.”

“You don’t say,” Zena mumbled.

Owen glanced pleadingly at Zena and she returned his gaze with an apologetic smile.

Rhys cleared his throat. “Well, we have arrived, as promised. It is the morning after our first visit. Have you made a decision on whether you would like to come with us to Hot Spot Cave?”

Elder waved nervously at Trina, figuring he’d at least try to be useful during this conversation. He was so used to trying—and failing—to convince Guardians to give up their power that he didn’t know what to do with himself when that wasn’t his task.

“I have come to a decision,” Trina said, “on how I will _determine_ whether I will accompany you there.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Owen asked. “W-we have to fight them, don’t we?”

Trina gave Owen a wry smile. “That’s very interesting of you to say,” she said. “Is that what you feel would be the most appropriate?”

Owen fidgeted with his claws. “I mean, what else would it be, right?” he said. “I bet our copies like to fight just as much as we do. And even if that’s how we were supposed to be designed, I mean…”

Demitri and Mispy both looked at one another. Owen looked back.

“Hm?” Trina said. “Is something bothering you two?”

“Well, a little,” Demitri said. “You told us… that we should be proud of what we are. But I don’t get how we can.” He tapped his left claws against his right arm. “That’s why we wanted to come here again. Mispy and I don’t… get what you mean.”

“Hmm,” Trina said. “I see. Because you believe that you have no control over your fates. Is that it?”

Demitri rubbed at his right tusk, pulling it out of its socket and snapping it back in. “I guess so,” he said. “Is that it, Mispy?”

Mispy shrugged, unsure herself. “I feel…” she said, “I feel…”

“Lost?” Trina asked.

Demitri and Mispy shook their heads. “Not lost,” they both said.

Owen saw Trina’s eyes widen imperceptibly, but she masked it an instant later.

“Then you must feel cheated,” Trina said.

They shook their heads again.

“I think I get it,” Gahi spoke up.

“Yeah,” Owen said, nodding. “I think I know what they’re feeling.”

“What is it, Owen?” Zena asked. “Is it… that you don’t know how you are?”

“It’s a little bit of that,” Owen said, glancing at Rhys. “But it’s more like… I think Demitri and Mispy feel guilty when they feel good about something. Remember back when I talked to Brandon, and he said that my whole cleverness thing was just part of my design?”

The Lucario nodded. “Yes. I remember. You were quite hurt.”

“Oh,” Zena said. “Is it because… you felt that a part of you that you felt was _you_ … was just what someone wanted you to be?”

Owen sighed, smiling at Zena. “Exactly,” he said. “It’s like a part of who I ‘decided’ I was, turned out to… not be my decision.”

Trina chuckled. “None of us decide who we are,” she said. “Not me, not your teacher, perhaps not even the gods themselves.” She closed her eyes, nodding slowly.

Team Alloy all exchanged glances, considering what the Bug Guardian was saying.

She went on. “Even I did not determine who I am myself. I was born alone and taken in by my brother and mother. I was shaped by my instincts and then polished by their upbringing. Are you not the same? The only difference is that while I was designed by the ancient hand of nature, you were designed by the careful thought of a father.” Trina looked at the four of them. “We are not very different. And in the end, were you not happy?”

This seemed like a speech Trina gave often, how rehearsed it felt. Did she tell this to all of her artificial followers? Owen had to admit, it did feel reassuring, in a strange way…

“Happy? I mean—of course!” Demitri said. “We were happy before we started actually _thinking_ about what we were. We were—stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “I think what they mean is, before, they didn’t know anything about themselves. So, of course they were happy. Ignorance is bliss, I guess? But,” he turned around to face them, “don’t you guys get it?” He waited, but when they didn’t respond, he continued. “I dunno about us being the _same_ like Trina’s saying, but we still get to _choose_ what we like about us, and what we want to change about ourselves.”

“But is _that_ our choice?” Demitri said. “What we like and what we don’t?”

“I mean, kinda chipping scales at that point,” Owen said, rubbing the top of his head. “C’mon, can’t you cut me a break? The fact that you feel _bad_ about fighting means you still get to choose!”

“B-but we want to fight,” Demitri said.

“Then that’s your choice,” Owen said.

“But then it’s what we’re designed to do!”

“So then, you’re saying you _don’t_ have a choice but to _not_ fight?” Owen asked.

“No, I—” Demitri blinked. He stared at his hands thoughtfully, squinting as if the answer was somewhere in his palms. “…What?”

“If you’re saying you were designed to fight, then if you wanted to fight your design, you’d have no _choice_ but to not fight. So, either way, you don’t have a choice. Fighting is following your design, and not fighting is going against it, because it was your design. So choosing to do neither is just… reacting to your design, one way or the other.”

Mispy squinted at Owen. “Book smart…” she mumbled irritably.

“I ain’t got a clue what yer saying,” Gahi told Owen flatly. “Say it in an easy way.”

Trina chuckled. “He’s right, Owen. You should try to simplify it for your team.”

“Uhh—” Owen sighed. “Rhys? Help me out?”

“I do not have a right to tell them how to think on this matter,” Rhys said solemnly.

“Okay, but can you at least translate me?! Elder?”

“I’m afraid I am slightly lost myself, Owen,” Elder said.

“Owen means,” Zena said, drawing Team Alloy’s attention, “that your choice is whether or not you want to follow this part of your instincts, and _when_.”

“My choice… is to make a choice?” Demitri said.

“No,” Zena said. “Your choice is that you get to decide when to fight, and when not to. Just as we all do.” She looked up at the webbed ceiling. “I believe I understand what Trina is saying. We all have those choices. Which one will you make?”

Demitri and Mispy looked at one another.

“And you know,” Owen said, “I don’t think it’s just that. I know that you guys want to fight. I do, too. It’s just in our blood, right? But you know what makes it better for me?”

“What?” the other three asked.

“It’s not just fighting. And I dunno if it ever was for a while. Sure, that’s part of the fun. But—” Owen dug through the bag wrapped around his neck and pulled out his Badge. “We choose who we fight, and what we fight for,” he said. “Eon wanted us to fight for him. But we don’t have to. We fight for the world.” Owen tapped the Badge to his heart.

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi looked at Owen, briefly entranced. They looked at his Badge, then at his chest, and then at his eyes.

“You’re lame,” Gahi said.

“We choose… who to fight for,” Mispy said.

Trina smiled slightly but then gave a short nod to Har and his team. “Then, do you choose to fight for your Guardians?” Trina said. “Depending on how this battle goes, I will decide on whether I shall join your cause or not. I would like to take you all to the sparring arena.”

Owen looked at the three of them. “Well?” he asked.

They all nodded.

“You guys should cheer us on,” Owen said to Rhys, Elder, and Zena.

They both followed Team Alloy. The Serperior slithered further into the caverns, where only the dim glow of the Mystic-enhanced web led the way through.

“Who we fight for…” Demitri repeated again, looking at Owen. “I never really thought about it like that, but, that’s how we do it, huh?”

Owen nodded. “Seems that way to me, at least,” he said. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” Demitri said. The Haxorus smiled. “Actually, no. A lot. I feel a lot better if it means we can fight for the people we care about.”

Mispy nodded. “Like you,” she said to Owen.

“M-me?” he said. “But you’re Team Alloy’s leader, aren’t you?”

Mispy giggled. “Officially,” she said.

Owen let out a nervous laugh, but then Zena gave him a gentle headbutt. “Owen, I think it was unspoken a while ago that you became the Alloy’s leader. You give direction. You evolved first.”

Gahi snorted.

“And,” Zena went on, “I think there’s something about you, Owen, that they look up to.”

Owen rubbed the back of his neck. “Aw, well,” he said, “I guess if you guys need coordinating, I’m pretty good at the brainy stuff.”

“So modest,” Mispy mocked.

“H-hey, look! I’m just trying to take the compliment!” Owen said.

They all laughed; even Rhys broke a small smirk. Har, Lygo, Ani, and Ax continued their walk alongside Trina, not breaking their marching pace, though they did smile at one another, too.

A long, though lighthearted, silence filled the air for a while. Their steps were muted in the soft ground of the labyrinth, and echoes were next to impossible thanks to the layout of the walls. Owen briefly worried that his tail might set the web on fire. “Hey, Har?” Owen spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“How do you not set this place on fire when you sleep?”

“I sleep on a Rawst bed.”

“Oh, you too, huh?” Owen said.

“Everything else, I’m just careful. The fire isn’t as hot as we make it out to be. Especially if you aren’t in a battle or anything. I think there’s an aura component so it’s not so bad. Ethereal, y’know?”

“I thought that!” Owen said. “Maybe with some focus, I can make it just a warm flame, too. That’d be nice.”

“Yeah. Why d’you ask?” Har asked. “Afraid of burning someone?”

“U-uh,” Owen glanced at Zena. “I was just wondering.” He eyed the webbing again, realizing that there was no light source aside from their flames, yet the hallway itself was lit enough that they could see everyone under a faded, yet consistent glow. “Say,” Owen remarked, “how come all this Mystic stuff is usually bluish?”

“Hm? Oh, that is merely the default color of aura,” Trina said. “I believe that was a creative choice by Star.”

“Of course,” Owen said, sighing.

“Is that why the sky’s blue?” Gahi asked.

“No, Gahi,” Owen said. “The sky is blue because of the way different frequencies of light—”

“Oh, great,” Ani said, rolling her eyes, “he’s a brainy one, too.”

“Hmph!” Har flicked his tail up. “I bet I’m smarter. Since I get more books and stuff, I probably know way more than he knows just from raw knowledge alone.”

“Oh yeah?” Owen said, tail blazing yellow. “How big is your book collection?”

“I,” Har said, “have the latest edition of ten different books on biology and botany, _and_ I’m subscribed to _Pokémon Physiology_ , so I’m getting new content every full moon.”

Gahi squinted. “How d’you even get something like that all the way here?”

“The more normal-looking ones of our Queen’s kingdom go in town,” Har said, shrugging. “They pass as normal. Like Ax. As long as he doesn’t pull his tusks out, he looks mostly normal.”

Demitri and Ax exchanged glances. The prototype Haxorus waved shyly. The upgraded Haxorus looked ahead with a shrug.

Owen smirked. “Well, _I_ ,” he said, “have the latest edition of _every_ Dungeon Exploration textbook in all of Kilo!”

“So, what, all four?” Har said.

“Th-they’re very expensive!” Owen said. “I—I _also_ have a collection on Pokémon physiology, and even the eighth edition of _The Unabridged Encyclopedia of Pokémon Species_.

“W-wait, there’s an eighth?” Har suddenly perked up.

“Yeah, it came out really recently,” Owen said. “Did you get it yet?” He couldn’t hide the smug lilt in his voice.

Har shrank, but then looked at Trina pleadingly.

The Serperior sighed. “I will put it on the list.”

They continued with their walk. Gahi eyed Lygo, sizing him up. They really were identical in appearance. “So, what makes y’ better than me?” Gahi said. “Yer Owen said prototype, so, what? What’s the improved stuff? Faster?”

“No, nothing like that,” Lygo said, shaking his head. “And what’s with your accent? Did you hit your head in your incubation chamber or something?”

“Oy, this accent’s awesome! I picked it up from someone I ran into a long time ago.”

“You mean the other Lucario? The dumb one?”

“Yes,” Rhys said, “it was Fighting Guardian Manny who influenced Gahi’s accent. He ran away out of curiosity for the outside world. Unfortunately, he was still in a very impressionable, malleable state, so to speak.”

“Oh, so he didn’t develop properly,” Lygo said. “Makes sense.”

“You asking fer a fight?” Gahi growled.

“I think the accent is quite cute,” Trina commented. “It’s a shame it’s attached to such a crass individual.”

“Hey, I ain’t crass!” Gahi said. “That’s Owen’s deal!”

“Crass, Gahi. Not Grass,” Rhys said.

“And I meant the thick-headed Lucario,” Trina clarified. “You, Gahi, I know little of.”

“Oh,” Gahi said. “Hmph. Well, I ain’t gonna call it cute, either. It’s cool.”

Trina chuckled. “I see,” she said. “I will take your word for it, Gahi. Now then, to answer your question on Lygo’s improvements, it is actually not very much. The original Alloy prototypes were actually already close to what Eon considered optimal. Their largest flaws—that is, the instability you experience upon fusing together—were already fixed by you manually, is that correct?”

“A-actually, we’re still working on that,” Owen said.

“Hm? Oh, so you can’t fuse together?”

“No, we can,” Owen said. He motioned to Mispy. “I fused with her once or twice, and I fused with him, too,” he motioned to Gahi, “but we’re still practicing.”

“We fused,” Demitri added, patting Mispy’s side.

“Hm, I see. That is wise. If that’s the case, I won’t have my four battle you as an Alloy. Instead, they will fight individually. I don’t want the sight of your Alloy form triggering any unstable memories.”

“Thank you,” Rhys and Owen both said.

Trina quickened her pace and said to the others, “I would like to introduce our guests to the sparring arena. The web here is particularly tough and can weather some of the strongest attacks that I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing from my subjects, one of which being from Ax.”

The Haxorus proudly held his hips with his muscular arms—or at least tried to.

Owen nodded, taking the arena in. The webbing here wasn’t sticky, but the walls were still thick, white, malleable. He could tell that they would bounce against any sort of impact. The ground looked like a miniature desert of white silk, complete with lumpy dunes. Owen tested this by knocking a knuckle against it. It wobbled stiffly. Demitri glanced at Trina, but before he could ask his question, she said, “Please, test it out for yourself.”

Demitri nodded and rammed into the wall with all his might. He sank an entire body length inside, the wall of silk bending in a gentle curve with the mutant Haxorus at the center. It then bounced him back with an equal amount of force. Rhys quickly manifested an aura shield to slow Demitri down, narrowly avoiding his huge body flattening him.

“Urgh—th-thanks,” Demitri said, getting back to his feet with the aura shield dissipating behind him. “That’s really strong. Did you, er… make this?” he asked Trina.

She nodded. “Yes. It’s quite useful, I think.”

Demitri shifted nervously, and Owen could practically feel the words dancing at the tip of the muscular mutant’s tongue. “Where did it come fr—”

Mispy smacked Demitri on the shoulder, sighing. “Will we fight?” she asked Trina.

Trina smiled wryly. “Of course,” she said.

“Oh, actually, uh, so if you guys aren’t going to fuse together, I guess that means I can’t use my Grass or Mystic powers, either, huh?” Owen said. “That way, it’ll be an even m—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Trina said. “Your counterparts will be able to handle that Mystic power just fine.”

Owen did his best not to keep his mutant pride from getting the better of him. After Jerry, he knew to be open to an idea of a non-Mystic gaining an advantage. “Oh, yeah? How come?” he asked innocuously.

“Mutant auras were designed with Mystics in mind,” Trina said. “Tell me, Owen. Have you fought a mortal before?”

“Y-yeah, I have,” Owen said.

“How well did it go?”

“It, uh, depends,” he said. “The first time I fought him, he was kinda on the weak side, and he couldn’t hurt me even if he tried and I just stood still. But the second time I fought him, a little later, he—he actually was a real challenge! So, it was a tough fight against him, that second time, yeah.”

“He lost,” Mispy clarified.

“ _Thanks_ ,” Owen said.

Mispy smirked at Owen’s glare. Owen didn’t need to read minds to know what she wanted to say. ‘Just keeping you in check.’

“I see. And this was the same person. What was the difference between those two fights, Owen?” Trina asked. “Yes, he was weaker in your first encounter, but I doubt that alone would have been enough to make you go from invincibility to _losing_. Based on how you explained it to me, I imagine it was just as unexpected for you. Overconfidence, perhaps, contributed? And then you panicked, further dampening your Mystic power. It was only a sparring match, so you had little to prove. That, too, dampens your Mystic power.”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “My heart wasn’t really in it. I wasn’t fighting to survive or anything, and I kinda wanted to be gentle. But when he got that first hit on me… I don’t know. Something changed.”

“Changed with whom?” Trina asked.

“With him, er—Jerry, is his name. When Jerry attacked, and he actually hurt me, I felt the whole atmosphere change when I fought him. Not… not the air, but the…”

“The aura atmosphere, perhaps?” Trina said.

“Y-yeah! Kinda! It was just a _feeling_ , like when a Mystic really exerts their power, and you kinda feel that… that _burning_ feeling. I kinda felt that, but not. Not a burning. More like… I felt like my own aura was thinner. Or something?”

Trina nodded. “I know what you are describing.”

“Star said it was because Jerry’s own willpower grabbed hold of my Mystic radiance, and for as long as he fought me, he made it his own, too. So, he matched my power… with my own power.”

“Used his willpower?” Trina asked with an amused shine in her serpentine eyes. “Is that how the Mew describes it? How cute. I suppose in an abstract sense, that is what happens. But in reality, it really is just tuning your aura to control the Mystic flare as your own. I suppose having the _will_ to reject the reality the Mystic imposes upon them is one way to approach it…” Trina shook her head. “But in the end, you can put it to a defined technique. And that technique—the Mystic Backlash—is something that all _recent_ mutants are capable of. Their auras are naturally turned to counter Mystic influence. Quite clever, hm?”

“…Recent?” Owen repeated.

“Yes,” Trina nodded. “Unfortunately, very early iterations of mutants did not have this property. Therefore, your models, as the pioneers, are not capable of this. Not by instinct, at least.”

“Oh,” Owen said, shifting his weight.

“But that makes for a good opportunity, don’t you think?” Trina said. “Now we can compare the effects. Ax and Demitri have similar strengths. Why don’t we have both of them attempt to punch through my Mystic barrier? Or perhaps slice, with those axes of yours? Ahh, that would be a good idea.” Trina nodded. “Ax, why don’t you throw one of your tusks my way? Then we can use Demitri’s lack of natural Backlash as a comparison.”

“Is that really necessary…?” Demitri said. “We get it, you guys are better.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m not even in the mood to fight anymore…”

Trina stared at Demitri at his last statement, blinking. “Excuse me?” she asked.

“I just…” Demitri shrugged. “You keep implying that your Alloy is better than us. And, y’know, it’s true, isn’t it? So… what’s the point? I’m just not in the mood to fight anymore.”

Trina and Ax exchanged dumbfounded glances, but then said, “Well, if you… ‘don’t feel like fighting,’ I suppose just this demonstration will do.”

Ax and the others deflated exaggeratedly.

“Fine,” Ax said. “I’ll go first, alright?” He brought his right hand to his tusk and pulled. With a gentle _click_ , the tusk detached, a bit longer than expected for how deep it went into his head. The handle was large enough for Ax to comfortably hold. He made a few practice swings to make sure he would get a good throw.

Zena slithered around Owen, inspecting his horns closely.

“Uh—Zena?” Owen said. “D’you need something?”

“Is any part of you detachable?” she said.

“Uhh—no, I think that’s just a Demitri thing,” Owen said.

“And a Gahi thing,” Zena said.

“Oh, right,” Owen said, but then felt Zena wrapping her ribbons around his right horn. “Uh—Z-Zena?”

_Click_.

“…Oh.”

“Wh-what? What happened?” Owen said, bringing his hand up. “I f-feel weird. Like I just closed one eye. H-hello?” He felt at his right horn, but it simply wasn’t there. Instead, he felt an odd groove where it should have gone, and a strange emptiness overtook his senses. “P-please put it back on,” Owen said.

“S-sorry,” Zena said.

With a series of clicks, the horn snapped back in place.

Owen sighed, relieved. “I don’t think I’m supposed to take those off,” he said.

“Why in the world is that even…?” Zena trailed off.

Har tilted his head, running a hand along the back of his horns, giving them a light tug. “I can’t do that,” he said. “I think that’s a prototype thing.”

“I guess that means Mispy’s the only one who can’t—”

Mispy, out of her own curiosity, wrapped one of her vines around another, giving it a light tug. It popped right off, moving on its own, writhing like the vine that resided in Owen’s stomach in his Grassy form.

Owen never felt more like a freak than at that moment.

Mispy snapped the vine back in its place, though unlike the others, it seemed like Mispy just partially reabsorbed it. It wasn’t something that simply snapped in place—her body was much more malleable, and must simply grow and stick to whatever gets placed inside.

This didn’t help Owen’s feelings.

“Okay,” Owen said, shaking his head. “You know what? I don’t even care. My horns detach. I give up. Demitri? Let’s just let Trina do her… her whatever.” Owen plopped down on the ground with a resigned _thud_ , wrapping his tail around to his front. He sighed. “How strong do you think your throw will be, Demitri?”

“Well, I dunno,” he said. “I don’t want to _hurt_ Trina.”

“There won’t be any need to worry about that,” Trina said. “Now, Ax. Would you mind?”

“Okay.” Ax brought his left foot back, then his right arm up, holding the ax above his head. He tilted his head uncertainly and switched his stance—left arm up, right foot back, and nodded, feeling more confident with this angle. Trina brought two vines forward from behind her shoulders.

Ax threw his ax at full force; it made a quiet whistle through the air for its split-second travel across the arena, but then hit a barrier midway through. For the sake of visuals, Trina made this barrier visible as a dim, white wall. While the ax was slowed down somewhat by the approach, like moving through thick air, it still pierced the barrier, going to Trina at a quarter of its original speed. She deftly moved back and grabbed the ax by the handle with her vine, a mere foot away from her chest.

“Very good, Ax,” Trina said, lobbing the ax back to him in a gentle arc. He grabbed it in midair, inspecting the handle. Satisfied with its condition, he slid it back into his face, clicking it secure.

“Your turn, Demitri,” Owen said.

“Rrgh… I don’t like that she’s just doing this to demonstrate _another_ thing we don’t have,” he said to Owen. “Do I have to? Let’s just take her word for it. That barrier looked thick, and the other me, he still went through it easier than I’d expect. It reminds me of trying to break through Rhys’ aura shields, but stronger. Mine are just gonna bounce off.”

“Well, then throw it as hard as you can,” Owen said, holding his fist to his chest. “I bet if you really give it your all, you’ll make Trina flinch. I bet you’ll even pierce through the barrier and make her catch it! Imagine the surprised look on her face!” Owen didn’t believe his own words, but a toothy grin shined through anyway.

Demitri cracked a smile. “You really think so?” he asked.

Owen didn’t. But he nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. I bet you’ll at least make her flinch. Just try! Remember, you’re a Heart. You never work half-heartedly. Think of this as a mission!” He clenched his fists and tried to motivate the irritated Haxorus as much as he could.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said, giving Mispy a confident smile next. “As a Heart, I have to give it my all.” Then, he walked away from the group, over an odd lump in the arena where the webbing clumped together for some terrain variety, and then over to where Ax had been standing for his throw.

“Are you ready?” Trina asked.

Owen nibbled on his tongue nervously. Even though they all knew Demitri didn’t have the inherent Backlash property, Trina was demonstrating her habit of taking every battle seriously. Owen felt a pang of self-consciousness at this. He should probably make a habit of that, too, so he didn’t get caught off guard by someone like Jerry again.

Demitri got into a similar position as Ax, though he seemed more comfortable using his right hand to throw. He leaned back, looking at Trina. “I’m ready,” he told Trina.

“Very good. Throw.”

Demitri swung and threw in the same way that Ax had. It whistled in the air—Demitri’s throw was just a bit faster than Ax’s, perhaps just because he happened to get a better swing, or just by simple luck. The actual difference wasn’t very much.

In another instant, the ax flew at the barrier. But it didn’t slow nearly as much, and the white light parted in a small hole for the tusk to pass through after only a brief slowdown by the Mystic barrier itself.

Zena and Owen both gasped; Rhys opened his eyes, having been watching the exchange by aura.

Trina’s eyes widened imperceptibly. She twisted her second vine forward to catch the rapidly spinning ax. The blade sliced cleanly through the first vine. The second vine wrapped around the handle, but it was still moving with such force and speed that it slipped out of her grip.

While the webbed arena didn’t allow for much of an echo, everyone heard the loud, dull _thud_ of the ax hitting the Serperior in the chest and the sharp _crack_ of a rib or two breaking where it hit. It And for a few seconds of shocked pause, Trina stared down at the ax sticking inside of her, straight into her heart.


	60. Lend a Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina and the Alloys explore the newfound power of Demitri and the others; meanwhile, Lavender plays in the lab.

Demitri screamed. “AAAAAAAAHHH, I’M SO SORRY!” He waved his arms frantically, rushing toward Trina with heavy steps, tripping over the lumpy terrain. Ani was much faster, gliding over the web with ease, and inspected the ax lodged inside Trina.

“Is—is she okay?!” Demitri asked with shaky breaths.

“Of course I’m okay,” Trina growled, blood dribbling out of her mouth. “How did you—” She coughed blood, staining some of the web crimson. “—do that?!”

Ani tugged the ax away with one vine, blasting Trina with healing energy at the same time. One of her vines melted away, and Trina’s chest was back to normal. The Serperior wiped away the remaining blood on her mouth with her one good vine. The other slowly regrew.

“I—I don’t know!” Demitri said. “I th-thought I just, uhh… I just threw! Like normal! I mean, I guess I was a little fired up—m-maybe I did what Jerry did, and got so fired up that I did a Backlash on accident? Owen’s really motivational, s-so…”

“Willpower alone isn’t enough for _that_ sort of Backlash. I don’t know who this Jerry is, but he sounds like he got lucky against Owen’s hubris. I doubt that sort of battle will be replicated now that the young Guardian learned his lesson.” The Serperior slithered closer to Demitri, handing him his ax, but then circled around him, inspecting his body.

Mispy glared.

“What is this?” Trina muttered, closing her eyes. “Your aura… for just a second, I saw…”

“Y-yeah?” Demitri said. “I know it looks a little weird. The others told me that it was because I don’t have any ancestry and stuff, since I was created artificially. Rhys has the same sort of thing! Except just Star as a direct ancestor since, uh, she created their auras or something?”

“It was more or less a symbolic gesture,” Rhys muttered.

Demitri uneasily put his tusk back in his face, clicking it inside. Then, he looked at Trina, who was still inspecting his body. “Hey, so, uh—”

“Hush.”

Trina placed a vine at the center of Demitri’s spine. “Can you do me a favor, Demitri?”

“Vines off…” Mispy growled.

“It will only be for a moment, Mispy,” Trina said to the territorial Meganium. “I won’t hurt him. I merely want to examine something about his aura.”

Mispy snorted, sinking lower with her vines writhing irritably. She watched Trina carefully for any sign of her trying to hurt the Haxorus.

“Now, Demitri. Do you know how to draw into your own aura, by any chance? Has Mispy taught you anything about this, or perhaps Rhys?”

“You mean meditate?”

“Yes. May you do that for a moment?” Trina asked.

“Sure.” Demitri closed his eyes. The Haxorus eased his breathing, wobbling where he stood until he planted his rump firmly on the ground, shaking the web. Trina readjusted her vines to be at the center of his spine again.

“…Hn!” Trina tapped Demitri’s back and he straightened completely upright. Two tendrils of white light burst harmlessly from his chest, right near the center, just below the ribs.

Demitri gasped raggedly. “Wh-what—”

Mispy lunged at Trina; it required both Trina’s and Rhys’ barriers to keep her from ripping the Serperior apart.

“Hold!” Trina said firmly. “Demitri is just fine! Speak.” She looked at him.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Demitri wheezed. “What’s—?”

“It’s just what I had suspected,” Trina said, slithering until she was in front of him. “Hm, two… Interesting.”

“Uhh—help?” Demitri said. “I feel—weird. Help? Stop?”

“I apologize,” Trina said, nodding. “Focus on the two Hands and pull them inward, please.”

“What? How?” Demitri said.

Trina sighed. “Just relax. It will happen eventually. Then, you will learn the feeling, and it will happen on its own.” She slithered away, approaching Mispy next. “May you meditate?”

“No.”

“Mispy,” Rhys said, “Trina is only trying to help. I’d like to see this as well.”

Demitri was poking at the two tendrils sticking out of his chest. “They’re kinda warm,” he said, grasping one. He felt something, yet he didn’t at the same time. His hand passed through, yet it still felt like part of him was holding onto it. The strange dual-sensation was too much and he jerked his hand away, and it felt normal again. “That’s weird,” he mumbled.

“Can I do that…?” Owen mumbled, looking at his chest.

“I just want to see how many Hands you have,” Trina said to Mispy.

“Many,” Mispy said curtly. She raised ten of her vines, shaking them threateningly toward Trina. The Serperior was unfazed.

“You know what I mean,” Trina said. “Please. Let me see.”

Mispy growled, but then turned her head away. “Fine.”

Trina slithered closer and asked Mispy to do the same things as Demitri. First, she closed her eyes. Then, she meditated, and Trina tapped at the side of Mispy’s body—she was too large to easily reach the spine. On the opposite side, three tendrils of light burst out. “Three…” Trina said slowly.

Mispy used a few of her vines to knock and jiggle at the three tendrils that floated in the air. Gusts of wind had no effect on their gentle flow, though trying to touch them did make them move. Mispy tried grasping it with a vine, but when she did, the vine fell down, limp—as if she’d lost feeling in it for the moment that it had held it too tightly. The feeling returned seconds later.

Trina looked at Owen. “I’ve never… seen this happen before. I didn’t think it _would_ happen, but, well, the evidence is right before us.” She pointed with a vine at the five tendrils in total. “It appears that Owen’s Mystic power was partially transferred to the rest of the Alloy. Owen, you mentioned that you fused with the others before.” She slithered toward Gahi, gesturing for him to start meditating. Gahi reluctantly obeyed, sitting down with his tail coiled in front of his slender body.

“Yeah, I did,” Owen said. “I fused with Gahi a few days ago. We kinda went crazy… but after that, we stabilized, thanks to, er, Emily. Long story. But yeah, we fused. Oh—and later on, I fused with Mispy, too. W-wait, are you saying—when I _fused_ with them, they—they took some of the Grass Orb with them?! I thought it was, uh, just one unit!”

“I did, too,” Trina said. “And yet, here we are.”

“Does that mean we can summon spirits, too?” Demitri asked. “What about—uh—what about the whole thing with, wait, hang on,” He rubbed his head. “How about going to that weird spirit world that Owen talked about? Can we do that? Rhys can. Right?”

“Yes,” Rhys said, “but it’s not quite a simple task. I thought—”

“Mispy, you fused with Demitri recently as well,” Trina deduced.

“Mm.” Mispy nodded.

“I see…” Trina said. “Then that means… Gahi should have ten.”

She tapped Gahi on the back and—unexpectedly—only seven tendrils of light poured out of Gahi’s chest, each one flowing to some invisible, idle current.

“Nngk—I’m with Demitri, this feels real weird,” he muttered, grasping one. His hand instantly felt simultaneously numb and warm. “Gah—what is that?!”

“Stop doing that,” Trina said irritably. “Why are you all obsessed with trying to grasp your Hands? That’s your aura splitting from your body. What you’re seeing is ethereal. When you try to touch it, your aura makes contact, but your body passes through. It’s fine enough if you’re simply knocking against it, but if you hold it from all sides—grasping, as you are—it has nowhere to go, and it simply pushes your aura away from your body. Be careful, or your aura might detach completely.”

“And then what?”

“I was never foolish enough to find out,” Trina said.

“H-hey, I got mine!” Owen said, holding out his claws. He had four emerging from the palm of each scaly hand. “Just eight, huh? Not that many. That’s just one more than Gahi, right?” He counted the ones from Gahi’s chest. “Yeah, seven.”

“Mm. That adds up,” Trina said. “Each Orb contains twenty Hands. Owen, when you fused with Gahi, you fused down to the very cores of your beings. Body, mind, aura, and spirit. Since Hands are tied to the link between the aura and spirit, you must have exchanged powers while fusing with one another.” Trina looked between the four as if mapping out the order in which they had fused to make such an arrangement.

“Wait, but Rhys totally would’ve noticed that!” Demitri said. “Rhys?”

“I—I certainly would have, if there were spirits within you,” Rhys said. “Or if you were utilizing your Mystic powers—but I suppose… you haven’t done that, since you weren’t aware of it. Until now, when I suppose Owen’s motivational speech was enough to trigger a Mystic reaction out of you, Demitri.”

“Wait, so they _don’t_ have spirits in them like me?” Owen asked. Worriedly, he closed his eyes. _Hey, guys? Are you in there?_

 _We are,_ replied Jumpluff Klent. _Owen, everybody is accounted for. We didn’t notice anything, either. It’s strange, but… the spirit world seems completely unaffected by the split._

“Well?” Trina asked Owen.

“They’re all there,” Owen said. “They didn’t notice a thing—they’re just as surprised as I am. Wait. So—so does that mean when I was fighting Jerry, I was at less than _half_ my Mystic power?”

“Hmm…” Trina said again. “No. That’s not necessarily the case. After all, a Hunter, with just one Hand, can kill a Guardian with all twenty of theirs. Though, having more _does_ have an effect, at least on the scope and range of your power.”

The Serperior then slithered away from them all, sighing irritably. “Well, seeing as you are now Mystic, and managed to learn how to Backlash against my barrier with your _willpower_ , as Star would call it, I suppose my demonstration can’t be done completely.”

“It’s alright,” Owen said. “Now we just know that more recent Mods can do it, and we kinda can, too, since—”

“Mods?” Trina repeated.

“Yeah, uh, modified Pokémon.”

“I see.”

“Is—is it a bad title?” Owen asked.

“Bad, yes. I suppose that’s a good term for it,” she agreed. “You couldn’t have been more creative?”

“I think Manny was the one who came up with that one,” Demitri recalled.

“The other Lucario? I’m not surprised,” Trina said.

“What do you call them?” Owen asked. “Mutants? That’s what most of the world calls them.”

“Hmph. I suppose I never gave a name for my subjects,” Trina said. “They are all equal to me, regardless of their origins. Is that satisfying?”

Demitri and Mispy both nodded. “A little,” said the Haxorus. “To be honest, I feel a little better after… you know. Our talk. And stuff. But—” He eyed Ax uneasily. “It’s still weird to see someone exactly like me.”

“More than Rhys seeing a fellow Lucario?” Trina asked.

“But they’re completely different. They’re almost opposites! They don’t even fight the same way,” Demitri said.

“Well, part of that is due to how versatile the Lucario species is. I was more referring to the personalities you share. I can tell that you are quite different.” Trina scanned the eight of them, and then looked to Zena and Rhys. “Hmm… You all seem unconvinced.”

“He even does that same thing I do,” Demitri said, mirroring Ax’s foot shuffle to shift his weight.

Trina sighed. “Very well. If you are so unsure, I have a proposal. You have impressed me enough to _consider_ joining your group under Star, as little as I approve of her cowardice. It seems that she is not quite running your group, anyway, so much as she is helping you find more Guardians, is that it?”

“More or less,” Owen said. “Some of us aren’t really on super good terms with her just yet…” He glanced at Zena, who nodded.

“Then it is settled,” Trina said. “I will send Har, Lygo, Ani, and Ax with you to your home for a few days. This works well, as I will need that time to mobilize and organize my subjects. Unlike most of you, many of those you see here are still alive, and cannot simply be withdrawn as spirits. Then, when they feel they have enough information for me, they will tell me whether you are worth joining or not. Simultaneously, you will realize the differences you share with your counterparts. Har, I think this will do well for you, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Har said.

“You know what,” Trina said with a wry smile.

Har growled and crossed his arms, flashing a glare at Owen. The gesture made the prototype flinch—did he do something wrong?

“Do you have enough of that strange Heart power to warp back to your homes?” Trina asked.

“Yes,” Rhys said. “I used my Badge to warp us here, but Owen and the others have their own Badges to bring us back. Considering how many of us there are,” he said, “we should use two of our Badges this time.”

“Right,” Owen said, fishing out his own. Mispy pulled out the next one.

“Hey, these things gonna go back in yet?” Gahi aside, poking at the seven filaments of light drifting in front of him.

“In time,” Trina said. “Just relax. As you can see, Demitri’s are almost inside again.”

Demitri poked at the little nubs sticking out from the center of his ribcage.

Owen inched over to Har’s half of the team and the rest moved toward Mispy. “Hey, um,” Owen said, “I’m sorry if I offended you or anything. I’ve kinda been doing that a lot lately.” He glanced awkwardly at Zena. “I—”

“It’s fine,” Har said. “Not your fault.”

“Oh. Okay,” Owen said. “But how come Trina said that?”

Har glanced at Owen, but then at the Serperior, who was leaving the arena to tend to the rest of her subjects. The Charizard sighed. “Because,” he said, “my first name was Owen.”

He snatched the Badge from Owen’s hand, seeing that he was too stunned to use it, and thrust it in the air, warping them back to Hot Spot Cave.

 

White tiles lined the floor, pressing against concrete walls. Lights filled the ceiling every few paces in the form of little crystals powered by Mystic energy. In a grid-like formation, strange machines surrounded thick, glass cylinders made to hold small Pokémon, no more than two feet in diameter.  Some of them were empty. Some of them were filled with a strange, opaque, brownish-red liquid. Others were a clear green, with little figures floating inside.

Talons clicked against the tile in addition to claws, tail wagging happily. “Huhu… Aw… look at him! He’s a cute one! Lucas, don’t you think he’s cute?” Lavender asked. “…Lucas?”

Lavender closed his eyes. Chitin coated his body and solidified, and his purple form grew grabber-like appendages from the side of his head. The newly-formed Drapion scuttled along the aisle of cylinders, but he stopped again when he saw one of them catch his eye. “Hi, hi!” he said, pressing his head up against the glass. “Hi! Hi!”

The strange, partly-grown figure floating in the green, bubbling fluid stared at Lavender. It appeared to be a Tyrunt, but in some strange development cycle, like it lacked an egg shell. No, it had a shell—that was the glass cylinder that surrounded it. The eyes had no lids. Its little, gooey stubs for arms wiggled at Lavender, and Lavender waved his right, massive grabber in reply. The developing Tyrunt grinned and wiggled weakly.

“You’re cute!” Lavender said. “Can you hear me?”

Tyrunt stared blankly.

Lavender clicked his mandibles thoughtfully. “Oh!” He slammed his head against the glass—startling the Tyrunt—and shifted his form again. Thick, green slime coated his shrinking body until he was nothing but a pale blob floating in the slime. The Reuniclus pressed against the wall and thought, _Can you understand me?_

And to this, Tyrunt nodded.

 _Ooh! That means you must be Reincarnated! Aww, you look cute! Don’t worry! It won’t be long now!_ He bobbed his body. _Hey! Did you see Lucas anywhere?_

Tyrunt shook his head.

“Aw, okay. I’ll keep looking. See you!”

Slime evaporated from his expanding body, and he returned to one of his favorite forms, Scolipede. He rolled through the halls—they were thankfully wide enough for him to do so without much of a risk of running into anything—and stopped only when he made it to the other end of the hall. He shifted back to Drapion. “I smell you…” he mumbled, clicking. “…Ah!”

He tumbled forward, back to Scolipede, and went down three aisles. He turned and uncurled, landing with heavy grace on his feet. “Lucas!” he shouted.

The Houndoom spun around, panting happily.

“There you are! I thought I lost you!” Lavender said. “C’mon, let’s go! We need to find Daddy and make sure he has the stuff for groceries when Auntie goes!”

Lucas barked and followed Lavender through the aisles.

“Lucas! Is your Mega form still okay?” Lavender asked, looking back. “Are you feeling angry or crazy yet?”

Lucas barked.

“Okay, good,” Lavender said. “Remember! Daddy said if you ever feel upset, you need to go to him right away!”

The Houndoom emitted a playful growl.

Out of the lab, they ran through white hallways and turned many corners. Lavender slammed into the wall that had “2” written on it with a heavy _THUD_. Lucas pranced behind him, tail wagging.

“Ten!” Lavender said.

The two became a ten. Lavender twirled around and rolled away. Lucas hopped on top of the spinning wheel and used it as a platform, running backward to keep on top. When Lavender turned, Lucas held on tight. They continued rolling along the halls.

Just in time, Lavender saw two Espurr exit the hall, smiling at one another. “Daddy!” he shouted when his head was at the apex of his roll.

Rim blinked in horror at the Houndoom riding the rolling Scolipede and vanished. Eon was not so quick. The pair toppled right over him, flattening the Espurr into a pile of pink ooze. He gurgled, shifting into some strange amalgamation of a Scolipede and Houndoom with a purple exoskeleton covered in black fur. A few seconds later, he became just a Scolipede.

“Sorry, sorry!” Lavender said. “I’m sorry, Daddy!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Eon grumbled, shrinking down into an Espurr upon searching for Rim, who had disappeared. “I should really look both ways before crossing the street…”

“Looking both what?”

“Nothing,” Eon said. “Seeing how _rushed_ you two were,” he said, “I’m guessing you had last minute errands for Auntie Rim?”

“Yeah!” Lavender said.

Rim reappeared holding a small notebook. With a bit of Psychic energy, she wrote down Lavender’s exhaustive, long list of trinkets and items. It had everything from a certain flavor of cookie to an exact number of berries to some sort of new toy he heard about. He then said that Lucas probably wanted some treats, to which he barked an affirmative.

“Did you get all of that, Rim?” Eon mumbled, still on his back, staring at the ceiling, contemplating why Lavender so frequently flattened him in the halls.

“Mm,” Rim said.

“Okay!” Lavender nodded.

“Lavender,” Eon said, “you’ve been in that Scolipede form for a while. Are you stuck or something?”

“No! I transformed a lot while in the lab!”

Eon’s tiny heart skipped a beat. He sat up. “Th-the lab? You didn’t—”

“I didn’t break anything this time!”

Eon sighed. “Lavender, please don’t go in there. I know you’re good at movement now, but you can still trip, and it was a _huge_ mess the last time you crashed into the chamber. And the embryos were very upset at you afterward, remember?”

Lavender shrank down. “Y-yeah, but… but I apologized!”

“No transforming, and _no rolling_ , in the lab,” Eon said firmly. “Now go back to your base form. I want to make sure you’re still stabilized.”

Lavender frowned but did as he was commanded.

“…Alright. That’s good. Now, Rim will come back with everything you asked. You were the last one we needed anyway.”

Lavender returned back to his Scolipede body.

“Why do you prefer that form so much, Lavender?” Eon asked curiously.

“I can roll!”

Eon sighed, rubbing at the massive space between his two eyes. “Very well,” he said. “But I want you to try maintaining a lot of different forms, just in case, okay? Tap into the memory of every one you can.”

“Hmmm…” Lavender tilted his head thoughtfully. “Okaaaay, I’ll do it later,” he said. “… _After_ I get my toy.”

“What even _is_ a Five-Cube?”

“It’s a cube that’s got twenty-five squares on every face and each face has a different color and you have to scramble it up and then you—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Eon sighed, waving dismissively. “Ugh, turn off the Psychic, please.”

“Ha ha, you know I can’t do that!” Lavender giggled. “Besides, that’s not the Psychic part at all! Stop playing by stereotypes, Dad!”

“Oh? What Type was it?”

“I dunno!”

“Wh—then how can you know it wasn’t a Psychic?!”

Lavender giggled. “I dunno! Maybe it just isn’t?”

Eon held his tiny arms up, trembling with some strange mixture of exasperation and confusion. He rubbed his eyes. “Okay. Okay, Lavvie. Rim. Go to Kilo and get the usual groceries. And… be careful.”

“Mm.” Rim vanished.

Eon stared at the empty space where Rim had once been. “…Lavender,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to follow Rim. Keep her safe. And… don’t hurt anybody, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There used to be a chapter after this one called "Special Episode 4 - What You Deserve." That has been moved to just after a chapter in Act 1 called "A New sighting." If you missed it, that's where it now is--and don't worry, you could have read it here or there, it works in either case.


	61. Grievances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerry speaks with some of the Guardians about furniture; Owen's group returns with the second Alloy.

In the dim glow of the Hot Spot mushrooms, Jerry’s new Provisionary Badge shined. It reflected the blue light sharply, and he couldn’t help but tilt it to see the light caress the rounded edges of the heart at the center of the Badge.

 _After all this time, I’ve got another Badge to throw away._ Jerry grumbled. _I should just toss it in the lava this time, huh? That’ll show them…_

“Show them what?” Star asked.

“Guh—” Jerry shot up from the ground. He winced as a reflex, expecting his spine to protest with a sharp pain, but when none came, he needed another few seconds to adjust. _Right, that freak’s healing…_

“Must be nice to not have that messed up back, huh?” Star asked.

“Okay, new rule. Stop reading my mind,” Jerry said.

“Okay, okay,” Star raised her hands. “Sorry. I forgot how easy it was with non-Mystics.”

“What, Mystics can block you?”

“Mind-reading is really internal. It’s one of the first things that I can’t do when someone’s aura gets too strong,” Star said. “Unless I really try, but… I’m not like that.”

“Sure you aren’t,” Jerry said.

“Oh, come on, I get that enough from Zena,” Star whined.

“What’d you do to her?” Jerry asked.

Star stuttered. “W-well, I mean—”

“So, I figure she’s right to not trust you,” Jerry muttered. He sighed, eyes softening. “Sorry. I guess you get a hard time from everyone, huh? Figure they had big expectations for their Creator and they feel let down because you’re just like the rest of us.”

The Mew shifted her position in the air. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m just glad they can still deal with me enough to summon me. And hey, some of them are getting strong enough that I look semi-solid now! Or I’m just getting weaker…”

“What would be making you weaker?” Jerry said.

Star shrugged. “I don’t think I’m any weaker. Definitely feels that way sometimes, though…” She flicked her tail, trying to form a small, Psychic bubble to rest on. Unfortunately, her presence in the real world was still too weak. It dissolved in a fine mist.

At the entrance to Jerry’s home, Amia cleared her throat quietly. “Um,” she said, “Jerry?”

The Aerodactyl sighed, wondering if it was a custom to bother each other in this place. “What?” He turned his head to address the still-green Gardevoir. “Where’s that blue you love so much? Tired of looking special?”

Amia winced. “I’m—not strong enough to do that again, yet.”

“Summoned your mate fine,” Jerry said.

“I can’t do both. I had to choose.”

“Oh. Well, good for you.”

“Er—Jerry, if you want, perhaps we can… find a way to go into Kilo Village and buy you a bed?” Amia held her hands together delicately, almost as if she was pleading, even though her tone suggested it was just a polite offer.

“I don’t have the money for a bed,” Jerry said.

“Oh, no, dear, _we_ would get you one,” Amia said. “Before he left, Rhys left me some funds for it. What do you say?”

“So, you’re saying it’s Team Alloy’s money that would get me the bed,” Jerry said in a growl.

“I mean, well…”

“Yeah, I’m sure you mean well,” Jerry said, “but you know what, that’s not something I’m gonna accept so happily. _Especially_ if it’s the same reward money they got for arresting me in the first place.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not _that_ ,” Amia said.

“I had a pretty big bounty, y’know,” Jerry said, smirking. “I was good at what I did. I bet my head was enough to buy a bed or two.”

Star sighed. “C’mon, Jerry, they’re just trying to be nice,” she said. “Can’t you just accept it? What, you’re just gonna sleep on the rocks?”

“What, like I haven’t already done that? Please. I’ll be fine.”

“Ugh, I swear to me, Jerry,” Star muttered. “Amia, how about you just gather up some folks, and we’ll just get his bed? He’ll have to come, unless he wants us to get something stupid. Maybe we can get one in the shape of a Clefable? Ooh, actually, I heard from Hecto that there’s a new bed coming out that’s in the shape of Anam! So every night, you get to feel him hugging you.”

Jerry’s eye twitched. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh?” Star asked. Knowing that Jerry was now obligated to come with them to save his dignity, she turned around. “Amia, you mind? Just three Mystics should be fine. I doubt Eon would try to take us on in public like that if we kept our numbers together.”

“Okay, dear. Jerry? Do you have a preference for who comes with you?”

Jerry folded his wings in front of him thoughtfully. “…The ice sculpture looks reasonable. And the weird guy, the crazy red and blue one. What’s he again?”

“Or, you mean ADAM, the Porygon-Z,” Star said.

“Yeah, that weirdo. He doesn’t look like he’ll give me any lip, so him.”

“Well, he doesn’t have lips, so that helps,” Star said. “Alright, so, ADAM and Step. What about Amia herself?”

“Oh, sure, put me on the spot,” Jerry growled. “…Fine, yeah. But is she strong enough to walk around like that? She can barely summon her mate.”

Amia rubbed at her arm, nodding. He had a point. If they ran into trouble—any sort of trouble, didn’t even need to be Eon—she might actually get hurt. She wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability.

“Well, uh, yes and no,” Star said. “…Okay, no. I guess Amia should stay back. How about, uhh… d’you mind Manny?”

“The Lucario with the crazy look in his eyes? I’ll pass.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Star mumbled. “Okay, fine. How about Willow?”

“The Joltik? Do _you_ even want her out in public?”

“…Okay, good point.” Star sighed, grabbing her tail and spinning it. “Hmmnnn, okay. How about Enet? …Okay, fine, I guess not. Look, just pick one, alright? Willow, Enet, or Manny, to go with Step and ADAM, because four’s a good number.”

“Can’t I just get Zena? You know, Owen might be a bright-eyed idiot, but he’s got good taste, eh? Wonder how he got so lucky with a piece like that.”

Star stared. “Listen, if you say that in front of her, I’m not gonna help you for what happens next,” she said. “Also, Zena’s with Owen to see Trina and the others. You gotta pick between the other three. Come on.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll pick, ehh, Enet. Sure.”

Amia nodded. “Okay. I’ll get those three,” she said. “Um—okay. I’ll go.” She awkwardly stepped away and waved to get the nearest ones’ attention, Enet.

Jerry watched Amia go, but then asked Star, “What’s Enet’s deal again?”

“Deal?”

“Yeah. All of you guys have a deal. Manny’s got some mutant-level bloodlust, Valle’s afraid of moving, Willow’s as mature as she is large, ADAM’s… whatever he is, so what’s Enet’s deal?”

“Well, she’s technically feral… or at least was born feral.”

“Oh, great. How’d you even get her to talk?”

“Mystic therapy.”

“Right, more godlet powers.” Jerry rolled his eyes.

“Godlet?” Star repeated.

“That’s what they are, right? Little mini-gods.”

“That, uh, I don’t think that’s how it is,” Star said.

“Well, okay. If it’s not that, how do their powers work, again?”

“Uh—” Star hesitated.

Jerry tugged at his scarf. “This scarf. Owen literally imbued it with his will and desire to save my life, and went against that toxic Altaria’s poisoned swamp. And Anam. He _blesses_ things, and that’s the same thing, isn’t it? C’mon. What’s with that Mystic junk? You guys can literally _rewrite reality_. That’s how you phrased it, right?”

“Okay, okay, so _maybe_ there’s a little bit of truth to that,” Star said, “but it’s not like Mystics can just do whatever they want.”

Jerry looked at Star incredulously.

“It’s the same power all Pokémon have,” Star said. “The auras they possess is just a tiny version of being able to rewrite reality the way they want in specific ways. All those techniques and powers and abilities Pokémon have… that’s just aura! Mysticism just expands their range a little, kinda.”

Jerry squinted. “Wait, really?”

“What, you think you have an organ that just creates rocks to shoot at people?” Star said.

“Well, I—”

“Do you have _any_ idea how energy-inefficient it is to have a tail that constantly spews fire?”

“Uh—”

“Like, seriously, if you guys followed the law of conservation of energy, you guys would be _dead_ or _boring_.”

Jerry sighed. “Well, that’s nice,” he said. He flipped the Badge in his wing-hand a few times, staring at it again. “I guess when you break it down, these Badges are just the Teleport technique for specific locations.” He rolled the Badge idly, making the blue shine from the mushrooms follow the ridges of the Heart emblem.

Star grinned. “Pretty shiny, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “Still don’t really like holding it. Just brings back bad memories.” He closed his eyes, sighing. “…She’s really fine? Mom?”

“I mean, as fine as you can get, y’know, yeah. Y-yeah, she’s fine, she’s fine,” Star said, noticing Jerry’s darkening expression. “I promise, she’s fine.”

Jerry stared for a while longer before softening his gaze. “Then tell her I said thanks. Guess I got a little fire from knowing that she wants me to be stronger, is all. It’s what helped me beat Owen, right?”

“Definitely,” Star said. “Part of it, at least.”

“Okay!” Amia called back, knocking at the side of the entrance. “They’re all ready! Do you want to go?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jerry said, standing. “What’re we getting again? Because I thought of something else. If you’re treating me to a bed, getting some food on top of that wouldn’t be a bad idea, right?”

“Oh, of course!” Amia said.

“Good,” Jerry said. “Guess I can’t complain, then.”

He stepped outside and flipped the Badge in his wing-claws again, slipping it into the back around his neck. “Guess I’ll hang onto it,” he said in a murmur. He spotted the Zoroark, Aggron, and Porygon-Z waiting in the square, where Valle was also standing as always.

To Jerry’s surprise, the Shiftry statue’s arms were moving very slowly from parallel to perpendicular to the ground, and back again. “…You’re moving?” he said.

“Yes.”

“He’s being better!” Enet said.

“Valle’s fear of movement is a hindrance to his capabilities,” Step said. “It seems that he is trying to overcome this fear.”

“Being isolated for so long,” Star said, “poor guy tried to cope by not moving to make the time go by faster. I guess after a while, that’s all he knew. I’m… _really_ sorry I put you through that, Valle. I should’ve realized and checked on you more often. Maybe actually pressed when you said you were fine…”

“The apology is appreciated,” Valle said. “I am terrified. I need to stop being scared.”

“That’s good,” Star said.

“Keep up that arm stuff,” Jerry said noncommittally. “Guess once you’re not scared of that anymore, you can say you did good.”

“Thank you. I envy your movement.”

Jerry decided not to question Valle’s twisted perspectives and instead pointed a wing. “What’s with the blob?” he asked.

“Huh?” Star said. She followed Jerry’s wing and spotted Anam waddling down the caves. “Huh. Guess he’s out for a stroll. Weird that James isn’t following him around, but I guess he’s busy in that Ghost Realm.”

“Right, the realms. That’s still weird to think about,” Jerry said. He watched Anam for a while longer, clenching his jaw thoughtfully. Eventually, he rolled his eyes. “Whatever. He’s probably just guilty for rejecting me,” he said, suddenly conscious of the Badge knocking against his chest through the bag’s fabric. “Hmph. Let’s go.”

<><><> 

The cool, yet stuffy halls of Trina’s labyrinth to the hot, dry caverns of Hot Spot Cave made for a startling transition. Demitri and Ax both rubbed their arms at the temperature change.

“Still need to get used to that,” Demitri mumbled.

“…There are two of each of you,” remarked a Shiftry statue in the middle of Hot Spot Square. “My movement training has rendered me insane. I shall stop.”

“Did that sculpture just talk?” Har asked Owen.

“Huh?” Owen asked—he was still caught on the fact that Har had told him he used to share his name. “Oh, sorry, that’s just Valle. He’s a Shiftry, and the Rock Guardian. He doesn’t move.”

“But he’s trying!” a tiny voice shouted from behind Valle’s head. Willow popped up, waving a tiny arm at them. “Hi, Owen! Hi, Owen!”

Both Charizard waved reflexively. Har flinched and brought his hand down.

“Hey, um,” Owen hesitated. “Do you… prefer the name Owen?”

“No,” Har replied instantly. “It’s just a habit.”

Owen gulped. “Okay, sorry.”

“Mm, Owen,” Zena spoke up. “Why don’t we greet the others? After all, we want them to meet everybody.”

“Sure,” Owen said. “So, Har, Ani, Ax, Lygo—this is Joltik Willow and Shiftry Valle. Willow’s the Fairy Guardian.”

Willow sprouted her large, pink wings as a demonstration. “I’m really cute! And I’m also really strong!”

“And also really irritating,” Gahi murmured to Lygo, who snorted a laugh in response.

“How many Guardians are here, anyway?” Har asked.

“Uhh,” Owen brought up his claws, counting. “Zena, Valle… oh, ADAM, where is he?”

Valle answered. “He left with Step, Enet, and Jerry to Kilo Village to get groceries and a bed.”

“Oh.” Owen nodded, counting his claws again for Step and Enet. “Oh, and also Mom—I mean, Gardevoir Amia. She’s the Fire Guardian.” Owen looked down. At six, he ran out of claws to count the Guardians. He lowered his arms. “I guess we have a lot of Guardians with us, huh?”

“We do, but that’s a good thing,” Rhys said. “We already have a serious advantage over Eon. Considering his movements, well…” he hummed thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “We should likely prepare ourselves once—well, _if_ —Trina decides to join us. Aside from the Trinity, she’s the last Guardian that is not either with us… or dead.”

Owen sensed a strain in Har’s wings. Almost on cue, Har stretched them to loosen them up. The improved Charizard asked, “How many did Eon get to?”

“Well, while we aren’t certain how they acquired the Psychic Orb under Rim’s control, the Ground and Flying Orbs are with Eon,” Rhys said. “Hrm. If they left for errands, it would be redundant to introduce you to everybody now. Why don’t you two train against one another first as promised? I can tell you are all a tad stir-crazy from your lack of fighting.”

Owen and Har both nodded. “Yeah,” they said.

Har flinched again and turned to address his Alloy. “C’mon, let’s go plan out a strategy.”

“Hey, actually,” Owen said. “I know a good spot where we can train, if you like. It’s a little deeper into the caves, but it’s where we used to fight all the time. How’s that sound?”

“Sure,” Har replied.

Gahi rubbed his head.

“Mm?” Mispy asked Gahi.

“Nah, nah,” Gahi dismissed. “Jus’ weird hearin’ two Owens. Figure one was enough.”

“At least they both seem pleasant,” Zena said, slithering after Owen. She almost mistakenly went toward Har—they walked in the exact same way—but corrected herself when she felt a Mystic aura emanating from the other Charizard.

“Yeah, wrong way,” Har mumbled at Zena with a hiss. “What, you interested in me, too?”

“Hey!” Owen said. “Just because you used to be me doesn’t mean you—wait. Uh, Zena?”

“No, no,” Zena shook her head. “I prefer the one I met first. We spent more time together, and… you two still seem a little different.”

Har gulped. “Th-thanks,” he said.

On their way through the caverns, Owen kept stealing glances at his double. Har did the same thing. Every time Owen glanced at Har, he’d quickly look away, and vice versa. Mispy and Ani both sighed to one another.

Mispy asked Ani, “Are you the leader?”

“Har kinda is,” Ani replied. “…But I keep him in line.”

Mispy giggled. “Me, too.”

Ani looked at Demitri, then back at Mispy. “You’re… together?”

“Mm.”

“That’s weird.”

Mispy huffed. “Not to me.”

“Well, I guess if you spent so much time together not knowing anything… I guess you grew close in a different way than Ax and I did.”

Mispy nodded, but then looked at Lygo and Gahi. They were definitely the most different of the two—undoubtedly due to Manny’s influence on the Flygon’s impressionable little mind.

Owen stole one final glance at Har and sighed. “Listen,” he said, “we’re the same person. I can read your body language better than—”

“I know, okay?!” Har said. “So, turn it off or something.”

“I can’t,” Owen said. “Maybe you can, but I can’t. I think it’s… stuck on. And it _feels_ like there’s still something bothering you. Is it—is it really me? Is it the name?”

“It’s not the name,” Har growled. “My name is Har. And you’re Owen. Simple.”

“But you said—”

Har beat his wings, sending a gust of wind all around him. Owen winced, covering his eyes with his right arm.

“I’m a better version of you,” Har said. “So don’t call us the same. Or equal. Or _anything_. We’re totally different.”

“What’s got his tail in a knot?” Gahi murmured to Lygo. “Ever since yer Queen went and said Har would need this sorta thing, he’s been in a _mood_.”

“He gets like this sometimes,” Lygo said, sighing. “Does your Owen brood about things all the time?”

“Ehh,” Gahi said. “Sometimes, but I feel like he, eh… was right ter do it. An’ besides, he helped me out when I was feelin’ down.”

“I think _we’ve_ been brooding more,” Demitri said. “Lately. But… I mean… how else are we supposed to feel?”

Rhys’ ears lowered slightly.

Mispy, spotting this, tapped a vine on the Lucario’s shoulder, trying to give a reassuring smile.

“Trina told us that apparently you guys didn’t know you guys were mutants for, like, four centuries,” Ax said. “Is that really how old you guys are? That’s crazy.”

“Kinda. I don’t feel like I’m four hundred, though.” Demitri started unsheathing and sheathing one of his tusks, clicking it while he thought. “Our memories are still totally scrambled between our first life and now. It’s all sorta blurry.”

“Owen can’t even remember when we met,” Zena said. “It wasn’t that long ago…”

“I—I’m working on it,” Owen said. “I’ll remember. I promise.”

“What is she, your mate?” Har asked Owen.

“Uh—” Owen flushed. “No. We’re only starting to know each other. We’re gonna go out to dinner tonight.”

Har looked back at Zena, who blushed in the same way Owen did. She avoided Har’s eyes. “Hmph,” Har folded his wings behind him. “She really likes you. I can feel it in her body language.”

“You know the serpentine body language?!” Owen narrowly restrained himself from lunging at Har out of desperation. He instead was able to mask it as a sharp breath.

“Queen Trina is literally—”

“You _need_ to teach me,” Owen begged. “Please.”

They locked eyes. Owen hoped that Har had the same do-good Heart-style mindset that he did.

“I’ll think about it,” Har said grudgingly, looking ahead. That meant he would.

Owen’s wings lifted slightly. He felt that based on Har’s body language, he was perfectly willing to help him out. Har rolled his eyes, clearly reading Owen’s relaxed body language. It seemed that there was going to be no hiding anything from each other’s perceptive abilities.

Owen still sensed a small bit of tension whenever Har looked at them, but the anticipated battle overshadowed it. Perhaps letting off some steam would help them both out. The two Alloys, Rhys, and Zena resumed their walk.

They traveled through the caverns and into the Hot Spot training hall—the same one he fought with Manny in, and where he fought Jerry—Owen turned around. Har continued to walk with the rest of his team to the opposite side. “Okay. Let’s plan, guys,” he said. Zena and Rhys both looked at one another and stood to the sidelines, figuring that this would be something that the Alloys would need to do on their own.

They stood on opposite ends of the cavern, huddled together. The two Charizard had their backs toward one another, far, far out of earshot. They stole glances behind one another a few times, then quickly looked toward their team again.

“So,” Owen said, “I think Har has… some identity issues going on. I don’t want to make him think that we’re exactly the same.”

Har addressed his Alloy, “There’s _no way_ we’re going to act like them. If Owen thinks he’s going to try to outsmart us by thinking of what _he’d_ do, he’s in for a surprise.”

Owen nodded. “So, I think we should do something different.”

Har slammed his right fist into his left palm. “Let’s do something totally different.”

“Like what?” Ax and Demitri asked.

“Well,” Owen said, “to be honest, I was kinda thinking, er… you guys remember Brandon?”

“I, uh,” Har hesitated. “Actually, there’s this idea I heard about from Dad a long time ago…”

“Brandon?” Gahi asked. “Th’ Machoke? Oy, wait, yeh mean—”

“What idea?” Lygo asked. “Wait, you mean—"

“Exactly,” Owen and Har said.

And after enough deliberating, Owen turned around first, waiting for Har to do the same. “What, you finished planning already?” Har asked upon turning.

“We had a reference,” Owen said.

“Well, we’re ready, too,” Har said, grinning proudly. “Don’t think it’ll be so easy to beat us like this. It’s a totally new strategy!”

“It is?” Owen asked. His flame blazed yellow. “Well, I can’t wait to see it! Maybe we can learn from each other!”

Har’s tail blazed in the same way. He masked his enthusiasm. “Y-yeah, sure. That sounds okay, I guess.”

Owen frowned. “You don’t want to?”

“No, I just—can we just fight?!”

“Oh, s-sorry. Right.” Owen looked back at the other three, nodding. Har did the same.

The two trios stepped into the arena, and both Owen and Har drooped their wings.

“Wait… what?” they both said.

It was the same formation. Mispy in the middle, with the two Dragons on either side, and with Har and Owen in the back as commanders.

“But… but it was supposed to be different,” Owen said. “I—I was basing my model off of the Steel Guardian! You know—the human? This was supposed to be like a trainer battle—from that ancient human world!”

“Wh—” Har shook his head. “We were gonna do the same thing to catch you guys off guard! The—Dad—I mean, Eon told us about it!”

“Dad—I mean, Eon knows?” Owen asked. “About humans?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s been around a while. He probably knows all the tales,” Har said. “Do you remember him telling you about them?”

Owen winced. “Not yet,” he said. “Maybe vaguely?”

Har grumbled, crossing his arms. “We… we came up with the same strategy.”

“If I may interject,” Rhys spoke up, raising a paw.

“Oh, what do you know?” Har hissed.

“W-wait,” Owen said, “what is it, Rhys?”

“I, er…” Rhys hesitated. “I recommend you fight regardless. With the strategies you’ve devised. Perhaps it’s not as similar as you think.”

The eight all looked at Rhys with skepticism, and then toward one another, at their doubles.

“It’s quite a tantalizing endeavor, don’t you think?” Rhys said. “You can compete with one another’’ strengths directly. You will see the differences then. Besides, Owen, Har, do you not want to determine which of the two of you would work as better commanders? Better leaders, better thinkers in the heat of battle?”

Both their flames’ burned bright again. “W-well, I—” Har said.

“Well, m-maybe—” Owen said.

They finally sighed. “Okay,” they both said. They exchanged another look, lingering in each other’s eyes briefly. For just a second, Owen sensed some form of kinship—not rivalry. But that faded into the crackling atmosphere of competition.

“Ready when you are,” Har said; by his words, Ani, Ax, and Lygo entered a battle stance.

“Right,” Owen said, and Mispy, Demitri, and Gahi did the same.

Zena glanced at Rhys with a wry smile. “How manipulative of you.”

“N-necessary evil,” Rhys muttered, avoiding her gaze. “They need this.”

“I’m sure,” Zena said, giving Owen an encouraging smile.

The two Alloys stared at one another again, tense and ready. Yet they didn’t make a move. It seemed like they didn’t know how to begin—at a perfect mirror toward one another, they didn’t know how to approach. Every so often, Ax and Demitri would twitch in the same way, or Ani and Mispy would try to maneuver in the same, mirrored direction. Lygo and Gahi were locked in the most intense stares.

Har and Owen, a few paces behind their respective trio, looked ready to shout their first order, but hesitated that it might be the same one.

“…Is something wrong?” Zena called.

“They don’t know how to begin,” Rhys said. “Hrm. Very well—I will assist.” The Lucario got up from his sitting position and flared his aura slightly. “I’m aware of a few human traditions myself, I must admit. I heard it the same as Eon did. If you wish, I can help… send things off. Would you like me to do something?”

“Anything,” Owen and Har said.

“Of course.” Rhys cleared his throat, murmuring to himself. Then, he raised his voice to announcing “…This will be a battle between Team Alloy of the Thousand Hearts, and Team Trina of the Bug Guardian. On my call, this will be a three versus three battle, with assists from their tr—their leaders. Are the combatants ready?”

“Ready!”

Har and Owen caught the glint in each other’s eyes. They both smirked, tails burning blue.

Rhys fired a weak Aura Sphere into the air, detonating it a split-second later. Cyan dots swirled in the air, filling the battlefield with harmless embers.

“Begin!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This work is clearly a work in progress, but is not stopping any time soon. As a reminder, I upload a new chapter every other Sunday (or Monday, depending on your time zone.) Stay tuned!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments for feedback on what you liked and didn't like, both in terms of macro-events like plot and setting, or even little things like writing mechanics and typos. I write these roughly three chapters ahead to give me time to edit with fresh eyes and sprinkle in some flow and foreshadowing work, so there's always room to change!
> 
> Additionally, if you simply want to chatter about what's going on in the story--feel free! It shows me what people are focusing on or, equally important, what they aren't sure about or what they aren't noticing.


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